The New Dawn
by 90TheGeneral09
Summary: In 2009, ten years after they graduated high school, Henry and Mark Evans are continuing to prepare their sons, Richard and Alex, to take their place one day. Their careers in the Marines have gone well so far, but an unexpected event forces a change in plans.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

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**XX**

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**A/N: This story is my fourth in the line started with "The Second Face". The movie it is based on, "The Good Son", was never especially famous or successful, and I believe it is a shame that it didn't have the additional details and plot elements of the novel adaptation that Todd Strasser wrote for it. The film got a pretty severe response from Roger Ebert, but I believe he might have liked it better had the film featured those crucial aspects of the novel. I could be wrong, but that's what I've figured for a while now.**

**This story started out, as several of my stories have, as a discussion between myself and AM83220. I created a Word document for it on April 11, 2013. It took 6 years for me to actually write the first chapter. The amount of detail I invest in my stories, plus the length of many of them and the fact that my free time is often quite limited, are responsible for this. But better late than never, as they say.**

**I want to specifically thank AM83220 for his steadfast encouragement and support, phorosz for the same, as well as some of the best and most richly-detailed reviews I have ever seen on this site, fear2breathe, and anyone else who reviews this story or has reviewed any of my work in the universe of "The Good Son".**

**After over half a decade, a third sequel to "The Second Face" now begins.**

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**XX**

* * *

May 18, 2001

The sun shone, bright and warm, down on the highway as Henry Evans drove his brother's SUV, a red Jeep Grand Cherokee, back to his home in Portland, Maine. He had lived there his entire life, right up until it came time to attend the United States Naval Academy starting in the fall of 1999, and was still back for holidays plus the summer. Henry went back when he could; the cold New England winters suited him especially well.

Henry had always loved cold weather. It helped weed out the weak, reflected how cold and pitiless life really was. But since becoming a star athlete and ladies' man in middle school, Henry had loved the summer. It was a time for him to show off his astounding good looks by dressing with about as little as he could get away with, a time to hang out at pools and lakes and beaches and see who he could fuck today. Henry had so many notches on his belt that there wasn't much of a belt left these days.

"So, Designer Sunglasses," a voice said from Henry's right, "coming back home for your second summer and you're acting like I'm not here. You wanna fucking talk to me?"

"Go fuck yourself, Mark," Henry said.

"Fuck you," Mark replied, looking at Henry from behind his own pair of $200 sunglasses. "I dunno how I wound up stuck with you."

"By deciding you wanted to be friends," Henry said. "That and you didn't want to be a scared little mouse all your life."

"Best decision I ever made," Mark said, fiddling with the cigarette he had been holding for the past twenty miles. "I still needed some help, though. You had to drag me into that house to save me from myself."

"I was glad to do it," Henry said. "Besides, Connie was getting on my fucking nerves."

"She always does. Hey, how many chicks you think we've fucked?" Mark asked. "By this point, how many between the two of us?"

"Oh, I lost count after forty."

"We honestly should've caught something by now, all those sluts we've buried our goddamn faces in."

"Yeah, STD's would probably improve that mug of yours, Mark."

Mark laughed. "Fleetwood Hall makes us so damn perfect, I bet you we're immune to anything we could catch anyway. Hey, your phone's going off."

"Fuck it."

"It says it's Lisa."

"Fuck _her_."

"You do, a lot."

"She's not useful anymore," Henry said calmly. "She's starting to whine that I'm not showing her enough attention. It'll only get worse if I keep ignoring her. And if I dump her, she'll fucking kill herself."

"She can breed. Her stock is good enough for you, isn't it? So get her pregnant again and she'll shut up for a while."

"It'd be fun," Henry agreed. "Putting Richard in her was the best night of my life."

Mark laughed. "I'd say the same about Julie, except- nah, it's true for me, too. I just made a mistake with the timing."

"You, Mark, _you_ made a mistake?"

The auburn-haired twenty-year-old laughed again. "Nah, I was just right and didn't know it yet. She'd be fucking great for Lebensborn. I just wish the fuckin' Nazis had won the war."

"Maybe one day we'll set that straight, get the right ideas back out there," Henry said speculatively. He shrugged his massive shoulders. "In the meantime, I gotta go deal with Lisa. She's become more trouble than she's worth. I won't put up with her fucking whining. It's about to get a lot worse; I can tell.

"Well, let's go see the boys first."

"Sure. I'd rather spend time on my son anyway."

"When you go out, Julie and I are going upstairs. Then I'm finally gonna pay Julie back for almost killing my son."

"You _know_ that wasn't her fault, Mark. Like, it genuinely, objectively was something she had _no_ control over."

"Would you say that if Lisa had done that to Richard?"

"Yes. Premature births can happen, Mark."

"Julie's job was to carry him until it was time," Mark explained with exaggerated patience. "Women are there to breed. It's what they're for. So, if she can't do that, she needs to be taught a lesson. This payback is fucking overdue. _Long_ overdue."

"Mark, you rape her, and she'll never see you the same way again."

"So what?"

"This entire thing of her babysitting the boys for us is based on her thinking you're her perfect Prince Charming, Mark. Think about when you raped Amy. You did that _knowing_ you two would be breaking up the same day. Amy was terrified of you after that, and I'm amazed she didn't kill herself. Plenty of rape victims do. You wanna have that happen with Julie?"

"No- well- no, I mean- she needs to pay! That's the point here, she needs to pay!"

"Let it go, Mark. She didn't actually do anything to you, or Alex. And we rescued him and he's fine, so where's the problem?"

Mark made an unhappy noise.

"I love being right," Henry said to himself.

"Ah, fuck you."

"Mark, I got plenty of women to do that for me. Just go fuck Julie's brains out and I'll get rid of Lisa. Everybody gets to have fun."

"All right, Henry, all right. You win- this time."

"Oh, good. I was worried there for a second."

**XX**

Just like he had all through senior year in high school, Mark had a remote control for the door to Julie's garage mounted inside his Jeep. Once they were sitting outside her house, Henry pressed the button and the door rattled up, obeying instantly like everybody else in Henry and Mark's life. Henry drove the SUV inside, parked it, and pressed the button again. Only after the door had fully closed did Henry and Mark get out. They each had a child growing up here, but not officially.

Julie had been expecting them, and she greeted Mark at the door. Henry almost laughed as they started to make out like a couple of teenagers. Julie had fallen for Mark's bullshit harder than anybody else. Mark was incapable of actually loving her, of course; he thought of her as a favorite toy. But the young woman who had given birth to Mark's child didn't need to know that.

"Um, hey, Henry," Julie said breathlessly, once she and Mark separated. "How's it going?"

"Real good, Julie," Henry answered, flashing her one of his charming smiles. "Thanks again for looking after my son. Lisa's a good girl, but, she just isn't parent material. Maybe someday, but not now. It's too early for her."

"I'm just glad we could arrange it," Julie said, nodding. "The adoption. I mean, the both of you- it couldn't have been easy to both have to deal with that. Having your first child while you're still in high school." She paused. "Well, nobody could deal with it better than you guys. You're really something."

Mark reached out and brushed Julie's left cheek lovingly. She leaned into his touch instinctively, closing her eyes for a moment. "_You're_ really something," Mark told her quietly.

"I'll be back later," Henry said. "I just remembered I gotta go do some stuff. You guys stay outta trouble. I'll see the boys when I get back."

As Henry left, Mark turned back to Julie and shrugged. "He's my brother, what'm I gonna do?"

"I'm so glad he trusts me with his baby," Julie said. "Richard's doing great."

"He comes from strong stock. So does Alex." Mark took Julie in his arms, kissed her. "Come on. Let's go upstairs and fuck."

"But- but what about the boys?"

"They're sleeping, aren't they? They usually are around now."

"Yes, they are, but-"

"Shh. You want this as much as I do. Don't lie, Julie."

"Are you kidding?" Julie laughed. "I bet I _do_ want this more than you, Mark."

He turned her chin towards his and kissed her. "It's a tie, then. I love you."

"I love you, Mark."

Slipping an arm around her waist, Mark led his former teacher upstairs. On the way down the hall, he made sure to look at the two small beds, where Mark's legacy and his brother's lay comfortably, napping away. Mark smiled, feeling a rush of affection for the little boy he'd fathered by accident. It had been a mistake, technically, but one he didn't regret.

_Besides, it needed to happen. I would have staged it a couple months later anyway, thanks to what Henry talked about. We each need a son, and I just had mine a little earlier than Henry did._

Mark turned his attentions to Julie, who was undressing in the bedroom. He went in behind her, closed the door, and stripped.

"Hey, Miss Michaels," Mark said, winking at her.

"Mark," Julie answered with a smile. "I hope you've been getting all of your assignments done."

The auburn-haired young man slowly raised his well-muscled arms over his head, stretched, then lowered them again, letting Julie take in the view, knowing she enjoyed it. He stepped closer and put his arms around her neck, drew her close so their faces were just inches apart.

"I love you so much," Mark said softly. "I'm glad my first kid was with you."

"Thanks," Julie said. "For not giving up on us. I didn't know… I didn't get it. Not at first."

"We were meant to be together," Mark murmured. "Always." He flashed one of his radiant, dazzling smiles. "Remember when we made Alex?"

"Halloween. Best night of my life."

"Of both our lives."

"Ask me one question," Julie said tantalizingly, "and we could do it again."

Julie looked at Mark, hoping against hope that he'd propose, but knowing the time wasn't right. Not just yet. Their steamy affair during Mark's senior year was still so recent, and if Mark married her, the secret might be found out… especially when Alex began to grow up, bearing a clear resemblance to his famous father.

Mark knew all this, of course, which was why he didn't address it. He just brushed Julie's right cheek with his hand. She leaned into his touch, instinctively seeking the feeling of comfort and safety it brought.

"I've waited so long to be back here with you," Mark told her.

Julie's heart was thudding in her chest, racing as she anticipated what she and Mark were about to do. She managed to say, "Me, too."

Neither one of them mentioned that Mark had been dating and sleeping with other women while he was away at the Naval Academy. They both knew he had, and why. Mark had to keep up social appearances there just like he had in high school. It had been discussed once before he left for college, just like during his senior year, and it didn't need to be mentioned again.

Mark swept her into his powerful arms, spun her around, kissed her as they fell onto the bed. As Mark entered her, only the head went in, just enough to turn Julie on but also drive her mad as she waited, pleaded for more. Her body cried out against the injustice, and then suddenly Julie looked up and saw Mark was laughing. That handsome, loving face was lit up with boyish glee and he was laughing, having a wonderful time.

"Okay, Mark," Julie gasped. "That's really funny."

"Yeah, it is," Mark said, almost giggling now. He pulled out, then inserted just the head again. Julie hissed in frustration. "Please," she said. "Mark. Please."

The heavily-muscled, suntanned young man looked solemnly at her, nodded. "Okay. I just wanted to have a little fun."

"Okay, you had your fun."

"Oh, no," Mark said, pushing himself all the way in. "The fun's just getting started."

**XX**

Julie held her breath as Mark grunted and groaned, thrusting a few more times as he finished. She was fantasizing again, imagining Mark was still the high school superstar, that he was stopping by for another visit after school, the smell of his cologne mixed just slightly with that of the locker rooms. Nobody had excelled at anything manly as well as Mark. Julie clung to Mark's back, hugging him to her, picturing herself in high school, hot and sweaty beneath her boyfriend Mark.

The heavily-muscled young man sighed, kissed Julie on the neck, chest, and lips. She loved this moment best of all, the quiet immediately after, when they were so close, so intimate it was like they were almost one person. Mark pulled out, sat back on his thighs, and sighed again. Then he lay down beside Julie, stretched, and drew her into his arms.

"God, that was amazing," Mark said. His deep, manly voice resonated low in his chest. Julie imagined Alex would be like this one day soon, a supremely confident athlete and ladies' man like his father. She knew Alex would start sleeping around early, because Mark openly wanted him to and intended to teach him to do that. It wasn't entirely what Julie might have decided on herself, but she understood how Mark felt. Boys needed to satisfy certain needs as they got older.

"As always," Julie replied. Mark had been especially demanding this afternoon, and extremely satisfying. Julie was so confident and comfortable around him. She was willing to try things with, and do things for Mark that she'd never done for any other guy, and in return he met all her sexual needs and then some. Mark was incredible. Julie thought of her colleagues, of the women teachers who'd talked about him so much. They had no idea how right they'd been about Mark.

"I think we got sweatier on Halloween," Mark said, gently cupping one of Julie's breasts with one of his hands.

"This was close," Julie breathed, patting one of his damp, thick pectoral muscles. "Pretty close."

"I do my best," Mark said with a smile.

"I'm glad we had Alex," Julie said. "I don't regret anything."

"We're gonna be such good parents."

"I can't wait for his siblings to get here."

"Alex will be a leader. I know it."

"Just like his dad is."

"Of course."

Julie simply couldn't wait for her next pregnancy, for the next time Mark fathered a child with her. They would never have any trouble conceiving, not with Mark being the man he was. Next time they would plan it, pick out a special night, and Julie would give birth a full nine months later. She imagined the next would be their wedding night, but if she walked across the aisle with Mark's second baby inside her belly, it would only make the day even happier.

Nothing excited Julie more than the idea of having children these days. She loved kids, always had. It was why she became a teacher, it was why she'd kept the baby when the accidental pregnancy happened. She wanted another baby with Mark so badly, and the fact that they could have another starting today if they just held off with the pills bothered her even more. They were deeply in love, they both wanted more children, and they couldn't have any for years yet, not until they could get married without people knowing about their affair.

The product of that affair was Alex Michaels, and Julie had framed pictures of him on her desk in her classroom, but no pictures of Mark. It was still far too recent. Some of the same students and staff who remarked on what a lovely infant Alex was would have instantly recognized the father. Julie contented herself with that magnificent calendar that had been released, plus pictures of himself Mark had given her as gifts. She looked at them all often, especially the ones where Mark was less than fully clothed. Of course, the genuine article was next to her right now, and nothing was better than that.

**XX**

Lisa Doyle was lonely. She was lonely, frustrated, and increasingly unhappy. It had been going on two years since she had graduated high school, a year and a half since she had given birth to her first child, her son. Henry's son. He had made a mistake on Prom night, and Lisa had gotten pregnant. After nine months of watching her belly swell up like a balloon, Lisa had an agonizing, torturous birth. She had struggled through it and Henry, the love of her life, had promptly swept the baby into his arms and ignored her.

That had pretty much set the tone for the rest of the past year.

Lisa had once been surrounded by crowds of friends, but most of them had either left for college or moved on, resumed their glamorous high school social careers without her. No doubt the scrambling for her throne had started the second graduation for the Class of 1999 was over, and no doubt Brian D'Aramitz and Andrew Cadiz had chosen their own successors as Chamberlain's kings by now. Few, if any, of Lisa's 'friends' had really been there for her. Some had, yes, but Lisa could count them on one hand. Too often Lisa had gotten fake sympathy or a kind of excitement that Lisa had gotten pregnant by Henry Evans. That was, like, totally living the dream! If Henry got you pregnant, he wanted to have kids with you, right? And if he wanted to start having kids, he was thinking ahead to marriage.

Except Henry hadn't said a word to Lisa about getting married. Not one. And more and more it seemed like he had just fucked her, taken the kid and given him up for adoption somewhere, and moved on with his life. He was an athletic superstar, a magnificent icon of manliness and strength. He would probably father several children accidentally before he got married and did so on purpose. And whatever lucky girl finally got him would have the best sex of her life, every night, for basically forever. It _had_ to be Lisa. She hadn't sacrificed so much and waited so long just winning Henry to lose him now.

It wasn't that Henry had broken up with Lisa. He still showed up now and then, called once in a while. Whenever he was in town, he would call or send a text message, and the couple would get together at his house or hers and fuck. Neither of their parents much tried to oppose it. They were adults now, and the worst possible thing had already happened. Henry did not much bother with dates anymore, though. He just wanted sex. Once he was done, Henry would often forget she was there, as if she were a whore he had rented and not the love of his life at all.

They never talked about the baby. Henry had been raised Catholic, and he said he felt terribly guilty about fathering a child before he was married. Premarital sex was bad enough, he said, but creating a child outside of marriage was worse. Lisa had never dared ask why Henry suddenly cared so much about what the Catholic Church taught him, since it had been an open secret that Henry simply lied to his parents about attending Mass all through high school. You never asked Henry those kinds of questions. He'd hit Lisa for less, even if it was only when she'd provoked him.

Richard, as the baby had been named, had been given up for adoption, but Henry never said who the boy had gone to. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he didn't care. Lisa was secretly glad she wasn't having to raise the kid. She was, in a messed up way, really proud that she was the mother of the first new life Henry Evans had ever brought into the world. She had given birth to a strong, exceptionally healthy boy, and Henry had been so happy and proud. But now he stayed off the topic and he and Lisa each went on acting like the whole thing had never happened. They undressed and screwed in his bedroom, or hers, like they'd never had a baby together by mistake.

Lisa had fought to recover her figure, and she had succeeded almost perfectly. She was a stunning beauty again, just barely entering her twenties, and none of the dozens of teenage boys and college guys who tried to flirt with her (and, they doubtless hoped, do more than that) would have ever guessed that Lisa had already had a kid. Some of them, Lisa thought wistfully, would be pretty fun to sleep with, and since everyone knew Henry slept around if he wanted, Lisa had sometimes wondered if she shouldn't go rent a cabin at Sebago Lake and do the same.

But Henry would find out. He always found out about such things. Nobody knew how, but he did. Henry could cheat on Lisa all he wanted, not least because both of them knew she was powerless to stop him. Cheating on Henry would mean getting dumped, though, and Lisa couldn't bear the thought of that, no matter how much Henry ignored her. He'd return to treat her like a princess again, she knew it. He always did.

Lisa's cell phone went off, and she snatched it up, praying it was Henry, her hunky, amazing Henry.

_OHMYGOD! It IS Henry!_

Snapping the phone open, Lisa put it up to her ear. "Yes?"

"Hey, babe," Henry said smoothly. "I was thinking we should hang out. Go on a date."

"Don't you wanna do some other things with me?" Lisa asked invitingly.

Henry laughed. "You know that I do."

"So we can both have our fun."

"Don't say you don't like it when I fuck you, Liz."

"I don't."

"What?" Henry asked, sounding stunned.

"I _love_ it."

Henry laughed again, and she could see him grinning, see the smile lighting up his handsome, stunning face.

"Okay, babe, you got me there. Listen, I wanna go on a date with you, but I can't just pick you up. I need you to go somewhere, get a little exercise in."

"Huh?"

"I want you sweaty even before I fuck you."

_Ooh, I wonder what he's getting into now. Maybe some girl down at Annapolis taught him something? I bet I can do it better. Oh, please let this be us getting back together. He's been drifting away lately and PLEASE let this be my chance to remind him we're meant to be. Please._

"Okay," Lisa said, breathless with excitement. "What's the plan?"

"Listen, babe, and I'll tell you."

**XX**

The run out to the trail Henry had told Lisa to get to wasn't so bad. Lisa was happy to say she made it in good time, and in those athletic short shorts and that exercise shirt with a bare midriff, she looked damn good. Henry sure seemed to think so when he showed up. Even in the dark, he was visibly undressing her with his eyes. Lisa didn't much mind, though, since she was doing the same thing.

"I missed you," Lisa said. "Every day."

"You whine a lot when you miss me, Liz." Henry didn't sound pleased.

Lisa hesitated. "I'm sorry. I just- I thought I'd hear from you more."

"My brother and I are busy," Henry said pompously. "We have a lot of women to fuck down there. Couple of female cadets, a few whores at this place near the school, some local girls. That kinda shit."

"I know," Lisa said, but her voice trembled. It hurt her that he slept with so many other women and girls. Not just that he did it, but that he acted like he had a right to do it, like he just didn't care what she thought of it either way.

"Lisa, I'm a man," Henry said with exaggerated patience. "I have needs. You think I'm gonna go fucking celibate down there just for you?"

"Henry-"

"C'mon," Henry said, reaching for his belt buckle. "Get over here and blow me."

"What?"

"Blow me. Now."

Henry pulled his pants down and stood waiting, and Lisa went to him, knelt, and got started. It took a few minutes, and Lisa expertly brought Henry close to finishing several times before actually bringing him to it. He looked happy with her as she stood up, and that was good after all the months of wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he even gave a damn.

That was very good indeed.

**XX**

They went on a long walk through the woods, and Henry didn't complain any more about her. All was forgiven. They held hands and he'd turn and kiss her now and then, just like they used to do. Henry had just been biding his time, Lisa knew it. The shock of accidentally getting Lisa pregnant on their best night together must have driven him to retreat for a while, draw back from the girl he loved most. He'd probably just needed time to think things over.

As if to confirm that, Henry asked her, "Liz, what if I wanted a lot of kids once we get married? Like, a dozen?"

_Jesus! You wanna go through twelve more births like that first one? Henry's got the strongest genes in the world. You're gonna hate it._

_But making them- oh… just imagine._

"I'd love that," Lisa said fervently. "I'd love it."

"Sorry we couldn't keep our first."

"It's okay. He'll have a good life. I know he's in a good home by now."

Henry smiled. "Yes, he is. So, you really wanna have twelve kids with me?"

"Making the first was a lot of fucking fun, Henry."

"Oh, yeah," Henry agreed.

As Henry stopped, Lisa realized she could see a brick wall surrounding a house. It was overgrown with vines and trees and bushes, none of which had been trimmed or maintained at all in some time. And the house was enormous. The biggest Lisa had ever seen.

"This is that- the Whitmore place," Lisa breathed.

"Yeah. I'm related to them," Henry replied. "So, wanna go have sex in the creepy haunted house? I bet it'll be fun as hell."

Lisa, who really, really hated the idea of even going near this house, smiled, nodded, and said "Yeah, that sounds great!"

**XX**

It was strange. Henry led Lisa downhill through the dark as if he knew the way perfectly. His eyes were better than 20/20, of course, but even that didn't, couldn't explain how Henry had clearly been to this place many times. He knew this house, and as he brought her around to the front gate, Lisa watched as it swung open on its own.

"Sensors," Henry explained. "They know we're here."

But Lisa only heard it that way after she'd thought about it twice. What she'd heard the first time was, "It senses us. It knows we're here." Lisa's mind rejected that fast and swapped some things around. You didn't dare start believing in ghost stories. Not when you were walking toward a house like this.

Continuing to hold hands, Henry and Lisa walked across the flagstone-covered courtyard. There was an old building ahead, just past the towering, imposing front of the gigantic mansion. Lisa saw it and recognized it as a horse stable of some kind, or possibly a garage converted from that. Henry swung open one of the massive doors, revealing a dust-covered Chevrolet Camaro. It bore Maine license plates, she saw, but the tags and inspection were expired and the car had clearly not moved in years. The performance tires had all lost air, and it was practically sitting on the wheels.

The driver's window was also destroyed. Smashed in. And why did the driver's seat look a different color than the other? Wait!

"This is Chris Marshall's car," Lisa exclaimed suddenly. "He went missing back in senior year. What's it doing here? Henry, you should tell people you found this!"

"No need," Henry said, shaking his head calmly. "The car's here, Chris is not. I don't know how it got here. Maybe he knew people don't come here much and he hid it here."

"The driver's window got smashed, Henry. It's gone."

"Maybe someone broke it and dragged Chris out. Maybe they killed him and he put blood all over the car. You won't believe how much people can bleed, Liz. If someone cut Chris' throat, he would've sprayed blood all over the inside of the fucking car."

Lisa suddenly felt very cold.

"I wonder what happened to him," Lisa said in a shaky voice.

"He's gone, Liz," Henry said. "He doesn't matter."

"Is he dead?"

Henry paused. "Yes. Someone murdered him. But he deserved it. Had it coming. _Understand_?"

"Yes," Lisa said instantly, although she didn't remotely understand. She was terrified, quite frankly, because Henry had never talked like this before. She didn't know what it meant.

"C'mon, babe, let's go inside." Henry took Lisa back out of the former horse stable and closed the door, hiding Chris Marshall's Camaro.

"Why didn't you tell anyone his car's in there?"

Henry laughed. "He's dead, Liz. He doesn't need it anymore."

**XX**

The front door of the mansion was unlocked, or it was after Henry put his hand on it and waited a moment, anyway. Lisa followed him into the cavernous entrance hall, wondering why it was so cold in here in the middle of summer. It was dead silent and no way did a house this old, left unused for so long, have air conditioning anyway.

Henry led her up a huge, expansive staircase and down a hallway that seemed to go on forever. He took some turns seemingly at random onto other hallways, went through a room where everything was upside down but somehow held onto the ceiling. Just when Lisa's steadily-growing urge to get the hell out of here was becoming so strong she actually thought of bolting for the front door, Henry opened a door to a luxurious bedroom and ushered her in like a gentleman.

The second the door was closed, Henry shoved Lisa down onto the bed. Lisa cried out in surprise, started to protest, but Henry quickly slapped her without even a moment's pause.

"Get a hold of yourself," Henry said, pulling his shirt over his head. He tore at Lisa's clothes, carelessly damaging them in the process, then yanked his pants down and forced himself into her.

"Henry-"

He slapped her again.

"You said you wanted to talk about our relationship," Henry breathed, pistoning his hips. His bulk pinned her to the bed. "You wanna talk? I wanna fuck. This _is_ our relationship."

Lisa didn't dare speak. She was afraid. Henry only slapped her when he was angry, and she provoked him by talking back or denying him something he wanted. Lisa instead spread her legs wider, gripped his back, let him have her. And he did, again and again and again. He didn't speak, wouldn't let her seek any comfort with him after, and got rougher each time, as if he was testing how much Lisa would endure without complaint. Determined to keep her Henry more than ever, Lisa let him, and accepted his embrace gratefully when he finally did allow her to lay her head on his chest.

After a few minutes, Lisa asked him a question.

"Henry, do you love me?"

"Huh?"

"I said-"

Henry shifted, looking at her with those crisp blue eyes. "I told you I did."

"Do you still?"

"Liz, I've treated you like a queen. I stayed with you after _you_ got pregnant and made sure the kid got put up for adoption. I gave you everything all through senior year and after and you _still_ find ways to complain. You get like this sometimes, you start bitching and asking stuff that isn't your place. It's fucking _boring_."

Lisa shrunk back, frightened of even the hint of Henry's anger.

"I just- I don't see you much since- well…"

Henry sighed. "Lisa, I'm sorry we accidentally had a kid. But he's gonna grow up fine with some other family. He'll be fine. And I don't just sleep around when I'm at the Academy because I have needs. I do it because I can. You better just live with that."

Lisa looked at the boy she had idolized since she was in middle school, the boy who'd gotten her pregnant and then helped her through every day of it. She still loved him, still wanted and needed him.

"Okay, but- I love you. I loved you since I saw you at that basketball game in PE class."

"Oh, that," Henry laughed. "Yeah, I was pretty stunning. I always look better with no shirt."

"You look best with nothing."

Henry grinned at her, and Lisa knew he was pleased.

"Hey, babe," he said, "spread your legs a little. I wanna do something for you."

For the next twenty minutes, Henry ate Lisa out like never before, displaying such skill that Lisa wondered how he'd learned so much in a few months. She could see his blond hair tossing left and right as he turned his head here and there, flicking his tongue around. Lisa was in heaven and the fact that Henry shamelessly cheated on her, and had probably done so all through senior year, was forgiven and then forgotten. Looking at Henry, it was impossible not to.

Lisa obediently returned the favor when Henry told her to, swallowed when he finished and told her to. When she raised her head, Henry looked at her almost lovingly, but not quite. "You've done great, Liz," he said to her, stroking her cheek. "You've been a lot of fun. But I don't need you anymore."

Before Lisa could question the meaning of that statement, Henry closed both hands around her throat. Lisa's eyes instantly bulged and her legs kicked and flailed uncontrollably. She pulled at Henry's hands, but they were like bands of steel. He stared pitilessly at her as she tried to cry out, silently pleaded with him to show mercy. As she began to fall unconscious, Lisa's bladder let go and she urinated on the bed. It took her back to the agony and humiliation of giving birth to her first child, the one she'd made with Henry, her boyfriend and hero, on Prom night.

_I love you, I always loved you, please, I want to marry you and have ten more kids, please… I… I can't- can't- can't breathe, Henry, help! Help me!_

As her lungs screamed for air and her legs kicked and flailed, Lisa saw Henry, staring calmly at her as his hands held her throat shut. She tried to pull his hands away, tried to beg him to stop it, but nothing worked. Her sight faded to black, and the last thing Lisa saw was Henry, her Henry, stroking her cheek as he strangled her, stroking her cheek gently, the way she'd always imagined it in her many years of fantasies about him.

Lisa fell unconscious, and Henry casually snapped her neck with one hand. The blond young man checked her wrist, her neck, and nodded when he confirmed she was dead. He then got up, gathered his clothes and dressed, and then left the room without a single look back.

**XX**

Mark was sitting in the boys' bedroom, holding Alex in his powerful arms, when he heard the garage door open and then close again. Henry walked up the stairs just in time to see Julie coming out of the master bedroom, more focused on brushing her hair than on closing her bathrobe. The way his face lit up told Mark he'd gotten a good look.

"Hey, Henry," Mark called out, and Julie jumped, pulling her bathrobe closed.

"I-I didn't hear you come in," Julie said.

"How's my son?" Henry asked.

"He'd like to see his dad," Mark replied.

"Of course," Henry said. He went to the cradle, gently lifted Richard out of it, tenderly held him while the 1-year-old babbled something, then burped. Henry laughed, then hugged his son carefully. "I love you, Richard."

"He's growing fast," Julie assured him. "I can't believe he was born that heavy."

"He's strong," Henry said. "He comes from strong genes. That's why Alex caught up with him, because they're both from good stock."

"Just make sure _he_ doesn't accidentally have any kids," Mark cracked, and he and Henry both laughed.

"Look at him," Henry said, gently rocking Richard in his arms. "He's little right now, but he'll be ready to breed before you know it. He'll carry on the best genes in the world."

"Mine are as strong as yours," Mark reminded him.

"Nah, blondes are superior."

Alex squirmed in Mark's arms, and Julie settled down next to him on the love seat Mark had carried into the room by himself six months ago. "He has his dad's hair, and his eyes," Julie said.

"Sure does," Mark said, and for a moment he was lost in thought. Who would have imagined that the scared little boy he'd been eight years ago would be holding a child of his own today, let alone a child fathered with his science teacher?

"Julie, can you get us something from the kitchen?" Mark asked.

"What would you like?"

"A couple beers," Henry said.

"Can you stay for dinner?" Julie asked hopefully. "It'd be good to catch up, Henry."

"Well, I'd like to… Mark and I have to go have dinner at our parents'." He paused. "But Mark can come back to see you after that. He'll want to see more of you, I'm sure." Henry winked at Mark, and Julie blushed crimson as she left the room, visibly flustered.

"I've been fucking her for almost two years and she still doesn't get it sometimes," Mark said, shaking his head.

"Did you give it to her?" Henry asked, his eyes gleaming.

"You know I did."

"Did she like it?"

"She loved it."

"I can't wait to see the boys grow up. They'll be raised the right way."

"The only way," Mark replied. "The future belongs to them."

"Them," Henry agreed, "and nobody else."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

**A/N: 10-4-2019. Edited and revised on and off through to posting on 10-14-2019.**

**This prologue chapter is based off of some miscellaneous speculative discussions on a fourth story in my series based on The Good Son that AM83220 and I have had since 2013, when he first contacted me. The story will largely be set around 2009 or 2010, around there, since it will enable Henry and Mark's sons to be old enough to play a major role in the story as they start to grow towards adulthood and toward the day when they will succeed their fathers. Henry and Mark want their boys to take over and continue doing what they have done, living the way they do, continuing to change the world to suit their desires.**

**John LaFleur, Jackson Lee, Jason Morgan, and some of the others from "The Good Sons" may make appearances in this story. Their role may not be central, but they may well show up at least once. Jackson is attending the United States Naval Academy alongside Henry and Mark, much to their mutual annoyance, while John is attending the Virginia Military Institute with Cindy Howell, whom he is still dating. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

It was Friday, May 17, 2002, and Carter Stevens was king of the fucking world.

That wasn't an understatement, at least not around Chamberlain High School. And really, even around the whole area of Portland, Maine it held true. The best-known school was Chamberlain High, and the most famous sports team was the football team, followed closely by the hockey team. Carter played on and was captain of both.

Lying in this enormous four-poster bed, which Carter had alternately charmed and bullied his parents into getting for him, it was easy to feel like you were the lord of all creation. Rich, supremely popular, athletic as hell, lying in a bed that had cost well over a thousand dollars in sheets and blankets of the finest materials… it was heaven.

Carter sat up, grinned, then reached over and gently shook his girlfriend Mallory's shoulder. She was hotter than hell, a rich track runner girl with a stunning figure and a beautiful, pouty face. Carter had gotten buzzed and fucked her on Luke Davis' own bed a few months back during a party, and asked her out before he got up and left. Just like the little suckup freshman football player who'd so eagerly offered his home for the social elite of Chamberlain to utterly trash over just one night, Mallory, a haughty senior with a serious weak spot for strong boys with big muscles, had been happy enough to give Carter what he wanted.

That their relationship was empty of real love didn't bother Carter at all. Henry Evans had said a fantastic body and great sex was all you really needed in a girlfriend. Mallory provided that, making a horny teenager like Carter happy enough to shower her with all kinds of expensive dates and gifts. He gladly bought her whatever she liked so long as easy access to her body continued. Although Henry insisted that kings only used proper beds with the best sheets, Carter found he enjoyed hopping into the Cadillac Escalade that Mom and Dad had gotten him last year and getting a quick session in before, during, and after the school day.

Best part was, the whole school knew Carter was doing it. He'd sometimes even wave to his buddies while getting head in the backseat. But nobody ever snitched on him. Never. They knew better than to cross a guy like Carter, who was well known for his love for karate, football, hockey, and weightlifting- all things that helped him keep this magnificent physique that he'd tirelessly worked to earn and maintain over the past four years.

Mallory stirred and turned to look at him.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey, beautiful," Carter said, waggling his eyebrows at her. "You, uh, wanna do anything before we get some breakfast?"

"Last night wasn't enough?" Mallory asked with some surprise. She sat up, revealing her gorgeous chest. "Oh, who am I kidding?" She crossed her arms.

"Nobody."

"Carter-"

"Babe. Just suck a little at least. I got, like, an exam in 7th Period. I could really use this."

"No," Mallory said, turning away.

"Babe, I'll buy you something," Carter promised. "Anything you want. We'll go after school today. I promise."

"Promise?"

"Yeah. I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

"I want another purse," Mallory insisted. "You said you'd get me one and you still haven't taken me by the store I said has them."

Shit, did you really think I cared enough to remember? Goddamn! Okay, uh… fuck it. Guess I'll shell out on this one.

"Babe, we'll go right by there. It's the first stop we'll make."

"First one?"

"First one."

Carter lifted the blankets off himself and lay back, hands behind his head.

"And I wanna see you do it this evening," Mallory said.

"What, jerk off?" Carter asked, startled.

"It's so hot when you do it. I wanna watch you."

Carter hesitated a moment. "Yeah… okay. I guess. Okay, okay. Okay." He laughed, shrugging. "Alright. I'll do it. Sound good?"

Mallory smiled. "Okay, Cart-Cart."

"Damn it, don't call me that, I told you I don't- ohh… ah… shit…"

One thing always led to another in Carter's love life. After making Mallory swallow again, half-listening to her half-hearted complaints about it, and eating her out to get her to stop whining, Carter was hard as a diamond. He was so busy giving it to Mallory that he lost track of time, and was seconds from finishing round two when Mom knocked loudly on the door.

"Carter! Are you up, honey? It's past time for you to be downstairs!"

Carter froze, holding himself up with his palms flat against the bed. "I'm- yeah, I'm up, Mom!"

"Do I need to come in and help you out of bed again?"

"No, Mom! I promise, I'm up!"

Mallory, lying still beneath him, reached up and started brushing at his armpit hair with one hand, squeezing his ass with the other. Carter grunted. He loved it when she did that stuff, but right now, he didn't need that. He was busy.

"Honey, I want you downstairs in five minutes."

"Ten, Mom! I gotta shave and stuff!"

"Okay, honey, but make it fast. Did Mallory sleep over again?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Aren't you supposed to tell your dad and I when that happens?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Did the two of you behave yourselves?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Downstairs, ten minutes."

"Okay, Mom," Carter and Mallory said together. He looked down at her and grinned.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

With his balls still throbbing bad enough that it was tricky to walk normally, Carter came downstairs in a pair of new designer jeans and a white Nike polo, his way of continuing the ultra-preppy image that Henry and Mark Evans had gone for each and every day. The polo was just a size too small, so it clung lovingly to his broad-shouldered, well-muscled body, making him quite a distraction for the girls in class, in the halls, or anywhere, really.

Talking casually with his parents was easy, and so was pretending that he hadn't been screwing the pretty girl beside him all night and a good amount of the morning. Carter had been practicing the Art of Bullshit, tutored and mentored all the way from freshman year by the Evans brothers, to the point where he could have walked into Catholic Mass on Sunday and sworn on a Bible that he had not and would not ever have sex outside of marriage. Carter loved his parents, but he also understood that they were there for a purpose, and that purpose was providing him with everything he wanted and needed to be king of his high school. They did their job well, so Carter treated them generously.

Someday, when he started putting kids in some beauty one after the other, Carter wanted to teach any boys he had about the importance of wearing your hair just the right way. The neat yet stylish manner affected by Henry Evans was perfect, but you could go for Mark's wavy locks if you had brown or black hair instead of blond. Carter was lucky. He not only had the right hair color, he even looked like Henry a little. A rumor had been circulating for years that Carter was a cousin of some sort to Henry, and Carter did nothing to discourage that.

The other thing Carter planned to teach his kids was that Adolf Hitler was honestly misrepresented in History class. Yeah, he did some stuff that wasn't so nice, but then, so did plenty of other world leaders. The main reason Hitler was depicted as the bad guy, Henry and Mark said, was because his side lost World War II. Of course the Jews, the Jew-lovers, and the people who had thought they were liberating Europe from oppression all wrote the history books their way. Of course they did. Carter kept a copy of _Mein Kampf_ in his room at his desk, telling Mom and Dad it was for historical research or some crap.

He actually did it because Henry Evans had told him to.

After a few more minutes of meaningless chatter with his parents, Carter grabbed his backpack and handed Mallory's to his trophy girlfriend. He was on his way to Chamberlain High, to the place he practically owned. It was gonna be a good day.

On the way out to his truck, Carter's phone started going off, and he snapped it open to hear Michael Cadiz, his best friend and chosen successor as King of Chamberlain High, telling him to go fuck himself.

"Mikey, when you say that, it makes me feel like you don't respect me," Carter replied matter-of-factly.

"You _would_ think that, you fuckin' pussy," Mikey answered. "Listen. I used my last pills last night and Michelle is putting out some more tonight after we work out and shit. Can you hook me up?"

"Goddamn, man, you used up what I gave you _already_?"

"Carter," Mikey pleaded. "Come on, man."

"I think you've been doing plenty of that."

"Oh, goddamn it!"

"I'll call my 'supplier' and have him meet up with you today," Carter told him.

"Thanks, man," Mikey said, relief clear in his voice.

"Anytime," Carter told him. He hung up, smiling to himself. None of his inner circle went without if he could help it. Whatever they needed in their lives as popular, prosperous high schoolers, Carter could get it for them. Favors from him were like favors from the king, and it was very good to be the king. Very good indeed.

"What was that about?" Mallory asked curiously.

"Nothing, babe," Carter told her, pausing to kiss her cheek. "My buddy Mike just needed something from me. You know, like everybody does."

"I'm so gonna ace that test in English today," Mallory said with a grin. "I think every girl oughta fuck her hot boyfriend before a big day at school."

"Good advice," Carter said, "but not every guy's like me."

"That's for sure."

As they got to his truck, Carter unlocked the door for Mallory and opened it, giving her ass a squeeze as she got in. She looked at him sharply, briefly annoyed, but Carter just winked, keeping a straight face.

"Sup, babe."

"You're lucky you're so hot," Mallory told him, trying to be reproachful.

"I know, babe," Carter told her smugly. "I know."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

People knew to leave the prime spaces in the student parking lot for Carter and his friends. As he reached his reserved space, the one with the shortest walk to the school's front doors, Carter adjusted his sunglasses and ran down the list of what he had to do today. Even with his reign nearing its end, Carter remained king, and that meant people were constantly coming to him for things. Not just favors, but advice, ideas, interesting news, all kinds of things.

Most of that Carter could safely ignore if he wanted to, but Henry and Mark had stressed the importance of keeping the school social network firmly on his side and under his control. That meant that Carter had to keep informed about practically everything, which meant he needed to retain a network of informers and use his inner circle to make sure he was always aware of the latest events and rumors going around.

Just after parking the Escalade, Carter noticed movement in the back of Mikey's Bravada. The tinted windows of his brother's old SUV weren't enough to obscure the sight of Mikey's bare ass, clenching and unclenching as he drew back his hips, drove forward, then repeated. Carter smirked, figuring he knew just what to do here.

"Hey, babe," he called softly to Mallory. "Come take a look at this."

"What?" Mallory asked, barely glancing up from her phone.

"This."

Carter opened the door and got quite an eyeful; Mikey was poised over his trophy girlfriend, groaning and rubbing himself with one hand, and he had left quite a mess on her smooth, suntanned belly.

"_OhmyGod_!" Michelle cried. "Mike!"

"_Holy fuck_!" Michael Cadiz yelled, twisting to look over one muscular shoulder, his blue eyes alive with fury. "Goddamn it, I'm gonna fucking _kill_\- Carter!"

"Hey, Mikey? Sup?" Carter asked, barely containing his laughter. "Having a good morning?"

"I was! _Hey_, shut the goddamn_ door_, man!"

Carter closed the door and waited patiently. After a minute or so, Mikey, the stunning redhead who ruled alongside Carter as Chamberlain's crown prince, emerged dressed in his navy blue shorts and white polo, an identical pair of Oakley's on his face. He brushed at his neatly-styled red hair and glared at Carter.

"Dude," he said, "what the _fuck_?"

"Is Michelle dressed?"

"You're a fucking asshole, Carter," Michelle told him, still fixing her straw-blonde hair as she came around the side of the Bravada. "And a fucking pervert."

"Why'd you date me most of last year, then?" Carter asked rhetorically. "Be honest. Is Mikey as good as I was?"

"Well, he sure doesn't open the door on other people's trucks while they're trying to relax before school fucking starts!"

"Mikey, how is it dating a senior?"

"I'm all about it, man," Mikey grinned behind his sunglasses. He raised his hand for a high-five and the two boys slapped palms. "So you got me back for last month."

"Like I said I would."

"Carter Stevens, right again."

"Fuck yes he is."

"Are you referring to yourself in the third person?" Michelle asked in disbelief.

"I can't believe you'd have time to notice that with so many guns around," Carter commented, his voice nonchalant.

"Guns? What guns? Oh, no-"

"_These_!" Carter and Mikey shouted at the same time, each pulling a sleeve up and displaying his powerful, bulging right bicep.

"God, I fucking walked into that," Michelle fumed. "Okay, Mallory, can we go inside now? These boys are just too full of themselves this morning."

"Okay, BF," Mallory agreed. "I just told everyone on my chat that Carter's being Carter and Mike's being Mike, so, everything's totally normal."

"You're assholes," Michelle told them both, flipping them off.

"Love you, too, babe," Mikey answered her, blowing Michelle a kiss.

"We'll talk, when your best friend's not around," Michelle said, still glaring at Carter.

"I miss you, too," Carter called to her.

"Fuck off, Carter."

"She doesn't really hate me," Carter said confidently. "Hey, Mallory!"

"What?" Mallory replied, turning around. "Seriously, Carter, I gotta go catch up with, like, two dozen people about stuff. Lots of rumors going around. I even heard some kid's going around who looks just like you only he's in 9th grade."

"Hey, wait, what about- like, you mean my haircut or something?"

"Hair, clothes, everything. Karen said he's on the football team. Seriously, you haven't even heard of this guy?"

"I know about this kid," Carter blustered. "I just mean I don't know his goddamn name. Find out who he is and Mike and me will take care of him, you got me?"

"Jeez, Carter, so demanding," Michelle snickered. "Something got you stressed?"

"Babe. Can you take care of that for me? Talk to the guys, just tell 'em that's from me."

"I'll find the little twerp, Carter, now can you chill?"

"See you at lunch," Carter said, blowing another kiss to her. Mallory blew a kiss back and walked away with Michelle.

"Jesus, she's hot," Mikey remarked. "Fuck."

"That ass of yours, though-" Carter began, but Mikey shoved at him.

"Oh, fuck _you_!"

"Like I said-"

"God_damn _it!"

"How was it?"

"Awesome, right up to the end," Mikey sighed. "You weren't lying about her, man. She puts out and when she does, holy _shit_. I've never had ass like that before."

"Mallory almost caught me with Rachel Sanders at the last party," Carter said, lowering his voice. "I need her distracted for real next time. I can't have her start thinking I'm fuckin' other girls behind her back."

"But you kind of are, dude," Mikey said, pausing to light a cigarette. He offered one from the pack to Carter, who accepted the offered lighter and took a deep drag before letting it out.

"That's not the point, man," Carter replied. "We both know that, Mikey."

"Yeah? So what?"

"How many times did I make sure your girlfriend never caught you with anybody?"

"Andy taught me all I ever needed to know about that shit. He dated two girls at once all his senior year, two girls, two schools. They never, ever found out."

"But was Andy here covering for your ass all this year?"

"I think you just saw plenty of my ass, and it wasn't covered at all."

"Jeez," Carter laughed.

"So Kevin Jacobs told me to tell you that he's got his parents out of the state for their honeymoon anniversary, he got a guy to buy him all the drinks he told him to get and he's got the silk sheets all set up in your room and mine."

"Cool. Tell him if he doesn't fuck this up we'll make that request of his happen."

"He asked for, oh yeah, Danielle Beauchene. She's so far out of that kid's league it's insane. How're we gonna talk her into fuckin' him, again?"

"Like Henry did with Jennifer Dao. You call her up, tell her you miss her, confide Michelle just isn't like she was, hint that if she fucks the sophomore hockey kid she gets another night of heaven with you."

"That was straight out of Henry's playbook?"

"Yep. That's exactly what he did, he said so himself."

"Goddamn," Mikey laughed. "Okay, sure. I kind of already told her something like that, but just hints and stuff, you know."

"Well, go and just tell it to her straight. She'll do it. Just gotta be smooth, confident, and have lots of money and huge fuckin' muscles."

"Lucky you and me got all that, huh?" Carter said. He sighed and shook his head. "Jesus, I love high school. Pretty soon this whole show's gonna be yours, man. You'll own everything."

"I can't wait."

"I'll make it official-official on the last day of class," Carter promised. "Have the freshmen do a salute and all that shit."

"Cool."

"C'mon, Mikey," Carter said, clapping his best friend on his muscular shoulders. "Let's see if we can't go fuck with Jimmy the Jew some more before class starts."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Jeremy Goldstein, one of Carter and Mikey's favorite targets, was a skinny 10th grader who had drawn their ire by refusing to remove the Star of David necklace he wore all the time after he had transferred here from… somewhere. Carter had ordered the kid to get rid of the necklace, and he'd promised he would- and then immediately swapped his entire routine for getting around the school and all but made himself invisible to Carter and anyone publicly affiliated with him. It had taken a lot of investigation by Mikey to find out where the twerp had gone.

And now… now he was gonna pay. Big time. Carter knew Jimmy's new routine down to the minute, a delightful perk of how meticulously-detailed the kid was. Mikey eagerly tagged along as they went through the halls, and when Carter found the curly-haired kid at his locker, grabbed him by the neck and pulled him toward the nearest bathroom, Mikey almost giggled like a little kid as he raced to get the toilet ready.

Turned out this remote locker, located in an obscure corner of the school about ten miles from the office, wasn't the one the sophomore was originally issued. It had been his idea to request a transfer on some pretext, probably thinking that hiding away in a spot like this would make him almost impossible to find. He'd been right… for a time. But now his luck had run out.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Jeremy Goldstein didn't know anything was wrong as he stepped off the school bus, wandered off the bus ramp and into the endless labyrinthine halls of his high school, and headed for his locker. He didn't have any idea that he'd been discovered at last, or that those big macho jerks who ran the school, Carter Stevens and Michael Cadiz, had figured out where he'd moved his locker to.

And because Jeremy had gotten comfortable enough to let his guard down, and because Carter and Michael could be alarmingly quiet when they wanted to be, he didn't know anything was wrong until Carter's hand wrapped around his neck and he was dragged, choking and gagging, into the boys' bathroom just around the corner behind him.

"Good morning, you fuckin' Jew bastard," Carter Stevens whispered in his ear. "Did you think we'd forgotten about you?"

"Ha!" Michael Cadiz laughed from further inside the bathroom.

With his neck still firmly gripped in Carter's left hand, Jeremy strained for breath but could only make horrible choking noises.

"Yeah, I know, bitch, ain't it?" Carter said knowingly. "Mikey, you ready in there?"

"Oh, man, gimme a minute. Jesus, I'm just about there-"

"Lucky you, man, he's giving you- well, you'll see."

"Jeez-God-fuck!" Mikey groaned. "Shit- oh, oh, my God… okay, okay, it's ready. Bring him over now."

Jeremy kicked and flailed desperately, but Carter just closed his hand tighter. He was pulled further inside, toward one of the toilet stalls. Just as he began to black out, he was thrown to the floor in front of a toilet. He looked up, gasping for air, and Michael Cadiz stood there with his feet planted wide apart, grinning and waggling a large penis at him.

"Got the oven ready, Carter," Mikey said proudly.

"Okay. Let's toss this one in."

"With pleasure, my dude."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

At lunch, with Carter busy with Mallory out in the Escalade, Mikey was the center of attention. He sat there at the place of honor, Michelle at his side, eating lazily and listening to what people were talking about. Carter had said it was important to hold court like you were above it all, like you just didn't give a shit. You could, of course, comment anytime, but you didn't need to, and just as important, you weren't supposed to. The king didn't take an interest in every single thing mentioned in conversation.

Michelle kept massaging his right thigh, going higher and higher. Mikey told her to stop, or was pretty sure he did anyway, but she just kept going.

"Ooh, cut that out," Mikey hissed. "Easy, easy."

"Don't you like it?" she whispered.

"Babe, I don't wanna change my fuckin' pants. Take it easy."

She eased off, but started pouting. "I thought you liked that stuff."

"I do, but time and place, you know?"

"Yeah, okay."

Mikey cupped her chin and kissed her. "I love you."

"You gonna take me out tonight?"

"Yeah, after I go work out with Carter and the guys."

"You promised-"

"Babe, c'mon. I gotta lift weights. I'll buy you dinner anywhere you wanna go, and we can go anywhere you want after. Just cut me a break, okay?"

"Fine."

He kissed her again. "Thanks."

A boy tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, Mikey, I was just thinking-"

"What?" Mikey said, interrupting. "What did you call me?"

Mikey turned around, glaring at Trevor Stout, the tall, lean basketball player who was bucking for inner circle status with him. Bucking for it hard. He was a great dude to have at a party, he could lift weights and play a mean game of basketball, but he was getting careless. Mikey's cheeks heated with fury at the use of his childhood name. Not even his oldest friends used the name anymore. Just Andrew, his hero and big brother, and Carter, his best friend and, whether Carter knew it or not, second hero.

Trevor Stout wasn't either of those things. He was just a pampered rich kid who was forgetting his place. And Carter, Henry and Mark had all said some pretty stern things about keeping people in their place.

"I just said your name, man," Trevor said, visibly confused. He laughed. "What, you didn't change your name did you, Mikey?"

_That does it._

Mikey stood up and put a hand on Trevor's left shoulder.

"Trevor, what did I tell you about _using that name_? What did I _say_? Nobody _calls _me that anymore."

Everyone at the hot-shot's table, and the tables nearby, suddenly went quiet as they noticed what was going on. Everyone stared expectantly up at Mikey, waiting to see what happened next.

"Dude, I've known you since fifth grade," Trevor blustered nervously. "I-I just called you what we all called you. I thought-"

Mikey slugged him then, a hard one straight to the gut. Then, while Trevor was doubled over, gasping for air, he hit him again, this time with an uppercut right under his chin. Trevor practically flew back and crashed against the opposite table, narrowly missing a boy who leaned out of the way just in time. Trevor looked up at Mikey, gasping for air, fear plain on his face.

"I'm Mike," Mikey told him. "You better not forget that." He turned to Luke West, one of the best-liked 12th grade boys on the varsity football and hockey teams. "Make sure he does all the cleanup at the party. Nobody else does anything."

"You got it, Mike," Luke nodded. He pointed to a freshman from the football team who was passing by. "Hey, kid. Pick Trevor up. He just had an accident."

"Yes, sir," the boy said. He instantly moved to obey, dragging a stunned Trevor away.

"He can tell me he's sorry next week, if he does the cleanup right," Mikey told everyone. "But he's missing the party this time."

Nobody at the table contradicted him.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

The boys on the freshmen football team were all hockey players this year; the seniors had 'suggested' that they join both teams, along with the juniors. The result had been a double dose of living Hell. They went through the cauldron of fire in the fall, then went again in the spring, enduring endless weeks of pain and misery, brutal practices and unforgiving games, barely allowed to live if they won a game and nearly hospitalized if they lost. They had learned to obey every order given by an upperclassman without question, and they had learned to become a hundred times more fit in a hurry. They lived at the gym, lived in the rink and on the football field.

At long last it seemed like they had finally made it. They had survived tryouts and freshman year. They would be among the ones tormenting the new kids next year as sophomores, still pitifully low in rank, but at least having earned their place.

Peter Lancaster was so happy to have made it. He'd kept his head down, obeyed every order, endured the pain and humiliation without complaint. He'd gone to bed shaking with pain, limped through the hallways, urinated in his uniform and even shit himself. He'd taken punches from Carter and Mike without a hand raised to protect himself. And now, having finally survived, he was openly dressing just like his idol, his hero, Carter Stevens. It was time to show the true depth of his loyalty at last. He'd studied Carter all year, learned his mannerisms, style of dress, favorite habits and music, even how he liked to fuck.

Carter was a living legend, a myth. Tall, strong, supremely confident, a star athlete and complete ladies' man, Carter had been hand-picked as a boy destined for greatness by Henry Evans himself, with the full approval of Henry's brother Mark. The pair had noticed Carter's flawless imitation of Henry's haircut and even more than a passing resemblance between the two and elevated Carter to be one of their friends and protégés. Peter wanted that glory, that success. He wanted to prove himself as a true follower of an heir to Chamberlain High's greatest athletes and alumni. He was even reading all kinds of books to try and understand what made the Nazis so cool, since the upperclassmen all said they were, especially Mike and Carter.

The plan was to walk up to Carter this afternoon and basically pledge loyalty to him. Dressing exactly like him and even looking a little like him, even dying his hair blond, hadn't gotten any special attention, so Peter was gonna just tell the king what he was and how he felt. He'd either be honored for his devotion or labeled a fag; it was gain or lose it all. Peter liked the idea of that. He wanted to take that risk.

After being run all over the field for two hours straight in the growing heat by the upperclassmen, the freshmen had been forced to wait while the 10th, 11th, and 12th grade players all went in and showered and changed first. Then, in honor of the last practice of the year, the freshmen had to strip naked and make their way through a jeering, shoving crowd of older boys all the way to the showers. Peter resolutely made sure his hair was still styled just like Carter's before making the run. He wanted everyone to see it.

But nothing happened, yet again. He didn't even see Carter. Disappointed but trying not to show it, Peter came back from the showers to get his stuff and go. He'd just go for the backup plan tomorrow.

"Hey, Pete," William Sanders, Peter's best friend and the only football tryout with glasses who'd lived, said in greeting. Like Peter, Will was skinny but extremely fit, adding muscle all the time as his body grew. Unlike Peter, he wore a shaggy mop of curly black hair and was half-blind without his glasses. He'd taken some especially severe mockery to get where he was and it had only bonded him and Peter more closely.

"No luck today," Peter sighed, grateful that his friend was still here. The seniors had been brutal with him for some reason, made it a nightmare just to make it to the showers. He'd just gotten in when most had already changed, and so the locker room was nearly empty.

"Just try the backup plan tomorrow," Will said. "You're the best player we have, especially on offense. How many games have we won because of you? Just tell them what you really think and they'll respect it."

"Nice speech."

"Fuck you."

"You always say that to me."

"Cause you fucking deserve it."

"Friendships are weird, dude."

"Only a best friend will tell you to go fuck yourself."

"Well?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Both boys set aside their towels, fumbled with their locks, and opened the lockers.

"I was just g-" Peter began, but he dropped his clothes and snapped to attention as the imposing form of a heavily-muscled upperclassman came into view. He performed an about-face and stood rigid in front of the bench and lockers behind him. Will, to his left, had done the same thing.

"There he is," Carter Stevens said to his best friend, Michael Cadiz. "I told you that kid was still here."

"Yeah, man, he took forever getting to the showers. What's with that, anyway?"

"I don't know. But he better have a good explanation because Coach will cut him from the team if I say so. Coach knows my word is good as fuckin' gold."

"Hell yeah, bro."

"So?" Carter demanded.

"No excuse, sir," Peter answered quickly.

"Yeah, you better believe there's no fuckin' excuse," Mike laughed. "Hey, four-eyes."

"Yessir!"

"Take your shit and get the fuck out."

"Yessir!"

Will snatched all his things from his locker and fled the locker room, still naked. Peter only hoped he was able to dress quickly in the side hallway the locker room was located on.

And then the locker room door swung closed with a snap, announcing that Peter Lancaster was alone with the two coolest, most powerful guys at Chamberlain High. His life for the next three years would be decided right here. As terrified as Peter was, he knew he had to have some chance here. Maybe he could still explain and he'd get out of this okay. Better yet, he could swear loyalty and be named a protégé, a future successor, as Carter and Mike had been.

Those two were the coolest of the cool, the last boys who'd personally known Henry and Mark Evans while they were still in high school and who had remained friends with them up to the present day. No other 9th or 8th grader had ever accomplished that. No one.

Peter stayed silent and motionless, still naked and still at attention. The two older boys stared at him, arms crossed, and for a time the locker room was silent apart from the sound of the air conditioning fans.

"So this week I just found out that some kid has been dressing like me, even wearing his hair like me," Carter said. "I asked around and everybody said it was you. So what's the fucking deal here? You gay for me? You a fag or something?"

"Sir, I only fuck girls," Peter announced.

"Yeah, I heard about that, too," Mike told him. "Congrats on popping your cherry this year. We're all impressed. So stop lying. You've done a good job but we found out the truth."

"Sir," Peter said, terrified this situation was about to take a nosedive. "I had to protect my rep. I had to do it. I was gonna get laid. I will."

"Okay, okay. We get that. Now, why're you trying to look just like Carter?"

"Sir, I want to _be_ just like Carter."

"That so?" Carter asked.

"Yes, sir."

"And why's that?"

"Because he's the best, sir. I want to be the best, sir." Deciding to really go for broke now, Peter blurted, "He's my hero, sir. I'd give anything to be just like him."

"You charged through my guys like it was nothing," Carter said. "I specifically told them who you were and to make it tougher for you to make it to the showers than anybody, but you still got there all on your own. Two guys even threw you into a locker and you just hit the floor and crawled under them and kept going."

"Yes, sir."

"You're one tough motherfucker, you know that?"

"Sir?"

"Mikey, gimme a few minutes here. I need to talk to Peter, just me and him."

"Sure thing, Carter."

When they were alone, Carter sat down on the bench and motioned for Peter to sit. He immediately did, still otherwise frozen in place.

"Relax, man."

"Yes, sir."

Peter did his best to sit in a more relaxed manner, as casually as he could being stark naked in front of his idol, a guy who could destroy his whole life with just a word to his friends or put him in the hospital with a few well-placed blows. Carter feared no one, was feared by everyone. He was everything Peter wanted to become- popular, bold, strong, successful, supremely confident.

A heavy, muscular arm fell around Peter's all-too-bony shoulders and he almost jumped.

"I haven't missed everything you did this year," Carter said, smiling at him. "You've been doing everything you could to impress me. Tryouts, all those practices and games, shitting on the weak kids that nobody likes. And here you are looking like you could be my younger brother. Did you seriously think I didn't know what you thought of me?"

"N-no, sir," Peter said. "Well, sir, I wasn't sure."

"Just tell me. Don't be a pussy. Tell me what I am to you."

Peter looked his idol right in the eyes. "You're my goddamn hero. Sir."

Carter laughed. "Peter, my name's Carter. Try that, okay?"

"Sir?"

"You can call me Carter, dude. It's cool. Okay? And, you're officially invited to the party this weekend. And I already told Rebecca Cardiff about you. She's really looking forward to hanging out with you at the party. I told her some stuff and she wants to know what you're really like."

_Holy shit. She's the hottest girl in 10__th__ grade. Jeez, what'd they even _tell_ her about me?_

"Yes, si- Carter."

"Listen, I know you're busy, but you wanna come by the gym to meet the guys later today? They've all heard about the badass freshman who wants to be a black-belt just like me and Mikey. They'd like to meet you before the party."

"Sure," Peter agreed, smiling. "I can go. I can't really drive, though."

"That's no problem. I'll drive you there."

"You _will_?" Peter asked, scarcely able to believe his luck.

"Let's go right now."

Peter hurriedly dressed without being told, the first time he had ever done anything in front of Carter without waiting for orders. Carter, who waited patiently in the meantime, high-fived him and steered him to the door once he was dressed.

"You've impressed me," Carter said. "You've impressed Mikey. Now let's see how you do from now until Saturday night. Think you can impress everybody who's somebody in the junior and senior class?"

"Fucking drive me to the gym and get me to that party and I'll show you," Peter told him.

Carter laughed. As Mike Cadiz came into view in the hallway, Carter said to him, "Hey, man. Peter's cool with going to the gym with us. And he says he can hold his liquor and fuck like a champ."

"Nice," Mike agreed. "Good work this year, Peter. Your last days in 9th grade are gonna kick ass."

Peter looked up at the two older boys as they headed for the commons area, then out the front doors and on toward the parking lot, striding a little taller, a little cockier with every step. His plan had worked. Not only worked, but succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. And Carter… he was even cooler up close than he was from a distance. Way cooler. This weekend was going to be awesome.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Carter was passed out in bed at noon when someone started banging on the door. He sat up and wished he hadn't; his head throbbed even worse than his balls did. Holy _shit_, he'd had a lot of beer last night. And he'd humped Mallory until the sheets were soaked with sweat. He'd finally gone to bed at, what, four or five in the morning? He'd been fucking Mallory one last time, so drunk he could barely stick it in right, and as soon as he was done he'd pulled out and turned off the lights.

Mallory, beside him, was still out. Carter got up, swearing as the headache hit him harder when he noticed the sunlight coming into the room. He staggered over to the door and yanked it open, then looked down to see, of all people, Peter Lancaster, who looked almost as fucked up as he did.

"Jeez, Peter, I'm gonna have to break your neck, man," Carter sighed in exasperation. "I gotta kill you for this."

"Carter, you left your phone downstairs last night."

"So the fuck what?"

"Henry Evans has been calling and calling. I answered and he said he wants to see everybody at the football field."

"Jesus, we're all- we're all fucking fucked up," Carter groaned. "Are you fucking with me? Because I'll snap your neck. You better not be fucking with me."

"No. Henry told me to get up here and give the phone to you."

"What?"

Peter promptly thrust a familiar cell phone towards him, and Carter took it gingerly, not quite sure what was happening.

"Hey! Carter, dude, you there?" Henry Evans called. "Talk to me."

"This is, uh, Carter," Carter answered. "Jeez, Henry, what- uh, what's up?"

"You sound fucked up. So does that freshman."

"He's cool," Carter replied. "I'm his fucking hero. He dresses like me, wears his hair like me. He's cool. He drank a ton before he threw up last night."

"Okay, bring him along. Actually, make sure he's with you."

"Bring- who? What?"

"Carter, Mark and I just got back from Annapolis. How about you get the hockey and football team together over at the field at school?"

"Uh… how long? I mean, when?"

"Let's do 2pm. Get your clothes back on and get everyone over here."

"Okay, Henry," Carter said, a little more awake now. "Sure."

"I'm counting on you, man. Get everyone there. Everybody."

"Sure."

"See you soon, Carter," Mark Evans said, and he hung up the phone.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Carter went into the most desperate kind of overdrive he'd ever known in his life for the next few hours. He dressed, woke everyone up that he could before leaving Peter behind to continue the process, got Mallory up, dressed, and back to her house, then drove back to the site of the party, where Trevor was already busy cleaning up. He grabbed Mikey, who had been asleep in his own reserved room with Michelle when Carter first woke up but was now dressed and shaved, and the two of them drove to Chamberlain High to wait while everyone got moving. They sent text message after text message, made call after call.

Luckily, years of rigid, unforgiving training in obedience and timeliness meant that the entire football and hockey team successfully dropped everything and made their way straight to Chamberlain in almost no time at all. Carter and Mikey quickly assigned some sophomores to direct traffic and get everyone headed toward the field, then sat around on the bleachers, smoking and waiting for their teams to arrive.

"Can't believe how scared I was of them," Mikey laughed softly, exhaling and flipping his latest cigarette away. "When I first met them."

"You were a little kid, man. It's cool."

"I was scared of _everything_, dude."

"Yeah, and how about now, Mikey?"

Mikey grinned. "I'm the king of the fuckin' school," he said. "Thanks for sharing the throne this year."

"I wouldn't have shared it with anyone else."

"You know, some of your 'best friends' in the senior class don't like you moving me up like this."

"Fuck them. They're jealous of me, too, but they can deal with it until graduation. You're the biggest badass in this school besides me."

Mikey nodded. "Pretty sure I get more pussy than you, too."

"Oh, yeah?" Carter demanded. "Now, how about we count-"

"Hey, man," Peter Lancaster said, coming up the bleachers toward Carter. "Everyone's here. I got some guys to do a count. We got everybody out in the parking lot."

"Well, who told them to wait out there?" Mikey demanded irritably.

"The King," Peter said, half-bowing to Carter. He grinned. "Or that's what I told 'em."

"You're an asshole, Peter."

"Yes, si- er, yeah, dude. I don't know any better."

"God," Mikey laughed. "Dude finally gets his cock wet and he thinks he's John fuckin' Wayne."

"I just learned from the best," Peter said. He paled before the two seniors, briefly nervous again, then quickly went on, "I'm gonna run this school one day."

"We'll see," Carter said, nodding. "You just might."

"Off to a good start?" Peter asked hopefully.

"Not bad. Not at all. Smoke?"

Peter wordlessly accepted the Camel, held it toward Mikey's lighter, then took a drag and instantly doubled over coughing.

"Lookit your boy," Mikey laughed. "Were _we_ ever that new?"

"Yeah," Carter said, looking down at his powerful body, his heavy, well-muscled arms and shoulders, thinking of the thin little sticks he'd had as a freshman a long time ago. "We grew up, though. Peter will, too. He's gonna work out with us for the rest of the school year, and he'll hang out with us all summer, too."

"I will?" Peter gaped, looking thrilled beyond description, scarcely able to believe his good luck. He quickly recovered, however, and added in a 'cool' macho voice, "Well, yeah, like- of course. It's not cool if I'm not there."

"Any friends of yours call you Petey, or Pete?" Mikey asked.

"Well, yeah, a few," Peter allowed. "Why?"

"Better keep that to just your best friend," Mikey went on. "Used to be I was Mikey to all kinds of people. Now I'm Mike. Only people that can call me Mikey and live now are Carter, 'cause we're best friends, and my brother, 'cause he's awesome."

"Okay," Peter nodded. "I guess making everyone call me Peter helps, for respect and stuff?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Peter took another drag and struggled to suppress his coughing, but he managed to exhale properly at least. "Okay," he said at last. "It's almost two. Want me to get everyone in here?"

"Sure, man," Carter said.

"You got it." With that, Peter left, off to carry out the king's will.

The seniors and juniors started in a minute or two later. One senior, Jake Lysander, looked to be arguing with Peter, but Peter gestured to Carter and Mikey, seated high above the gathering crowd of boys, and the two rulers of Chamberlain High offered a thumbs-up in return. Peter looked thrilled, and Jake shook his head in disbelief, but reluctantly shook hands with the freshman.

"Train 'em young," Carter said to Mikey. "Never forget that. Find that one kid who's really got balls, who'll do anything to be just like you. Promote him and make him feel special. He'll revere you like a fuckin' god. And never forget to shit on the freshmen hard. Their lives need to be so fuckin' bad that they'll wanna die every day of tryouts. Shit on them all year. Run them until they can't take it anymore and then run them again. It's how you make them into killers. We take cubs and make them into wolves."

"They're well-trained this year," Mikey noted, watching as Peter moved around, shouting orders until the freshmen were rigidly at attention in a ragged, but recognizable formation.

"They're always well-trained. Remember what it was like for us. It was hell but we lived. And we're tougher because of it."

"I can't believe we got to be friends with Henry and Mark Evans when we were little kids," Mikey said in awe.

"Speaking of," Carter said, flipping open his phone. "Heil Hitler."

"Everyone there?" Henry Evans asked.

"You bet, Henry."

"Mark and I will be over there in a couple minutes. Tell Mikey if he's not at your graduation with us I'll kick his ass."

"You'll be in town 'till then?"

"Yeah. Congratulations, the reign's almost over."

"I learned everything I know from you," Carter told him reverently. "Everything."

"You did good, man. I'll see you in a minute."

Carter got to his feet as Henry hung up, and Mikey did the same. "Okay," Carter said to his best friend. "Get these assholes in formation. Everyone."

"Done," Mikey answered.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Henry and Mark Evans strode onto the football field twenty minutes later, both dressed head to toe in designer clothes, each of them wearing stylish wraparound sunglasses. They were each smoking a cigarette, each too detached, too cool to give a shit that they were late. It didn't matter whether they showed up late or not. The entire show was about them. Every athlete out on the field waited motionlessly in the late May sun, watching out of the corners of their eyes as a pair of living legends walked into view.

Carter snapped his arm up in the Party salute as the Evans brothers approached, a gesture that had become regarded as pretty cool among the football and hockey boys in recent years. They all knew the Nazis weren't as bad as their teachers tried to say, and nobody wanted Jews or weaklings on the team anyway. Besides, the identical grins the brothers sported as they returned the gesture from the elbow, like Hitler himself did, showed that they were clearly pleased.

"Hey, Carter," Henry said warmly, extending his hand.

"Henry," Carter smiled. "It's fuckin' good to see you."

"You turned out to be a pretty cool guy," Mark noted. "Both of you did. Goddamn, man. All you needed was four years."

"Still didn't win every game," Mikey admitted with some reluctance. "We got close."

"You tried to be us," Mark said easily, "but you failed 'cause you can't be us. You can get close but you won't be us. It's cool, man. You did better than anybody else could have."

"Good discipline," Henry noted with pleasure, turning toward the freshmen and sophomore formations. "Looks like your boys follow orders."

"They know what Mikey and me'll do to them if they don't. They know what to do in the presence of their king."

"Check this out," Mikey whispered, then shouted at the 9th graders, "HEY! Freshmen! Bow before your king! Bow, you fuckin' losers!"

Instantly, every 9th grader, including Peter, who stood front and center, bowed at the waist, turning towards Carter, Mikey, Henry and Mark.

"They'll strip naked and piss in the parking lot if I tell them to," Carter boasted. "They'll do anything they're told. They don't think. They obey."

"As it should be," Mark nodded.

"Good-looking bunch of seniors and juniors, no fuckin' homo," Henry added. "You guys obviously got people going to the gym."

"Everyone's into martial arts, like Mikey and me are," Carter said proudly. "Most of us do karate. We get to use it on the nerds and the losers sometimes. Once in a while someone fights back, or we run into some kid from another school in town and he wants to fight, and we kick their asses."

"Got a picture here from Prom this year," Mikey added, taking a moment to brush at his stylish cut of shaggy red hair. "My idea."

"Don't listen to this asshole," Carter said. "It was _my_ idea."

Carter handed over the picture after glancing at it a moment. Henry and Mark looked down.

"Is that the Party salute?" Mark asked.

"It's a bunch of guys in Prom suits doing the fuckin' Nazi Party salute," Henry laughed incredulously. "Mark, how come we never thought of that?"

"We were too busy winning another undefeated season on both our teams," Mark replied smugly.

"Carter, that's you and Mikey, huh? Right in the center of the group? Man, and here I thought you guys liked Jews and retards and shit."

"Hell, no, man," Mikey laughed.

"Someday we'll put 'em all in their place," Carter said, "but at least we got 'em under control at this school."

"Still got that signed football, Mikey?" Henry asked.

"It's in a locked case in the hallway on the second floor of my house," Mikey responded proudly. "Bulletproof glass."

"_Expensive_ bulletproof glass," Andrew Cadiz added, coming up behind his brother.

"_Andy_!" Mikey shouted, spinning around and grabbing his brother in a tight bear-hug.

"Hey, m-_oof_! Holy shit! God_damn_!" Andrew gasped. "Fuck, you're strong!"

"You didn't tell me you were coming back," Mikey said. "I thought it wasn't until next week."

"Aren't I allowed to surprise my brother?" Andrew asked in mock astonishment.

Mikey let go and grinned at his older brother. "Okay, I'll let you have this one. Did Henry and Mark put you up to this, dude?"

"I don't know who that guy is," Henry grinned.

"Never seen him before," Mark added.

"He got inside our truck somehow," Henry went on.

"Decided we'd drive him over here so he doesn't spend the summer in New York fucking more college girls."

"How many'd you get this year?" Mikey asked eagerly.

"About eight," Andrew replied casually. "Pills, Mikey. Always keep your pills on you."

"I ran out again but Carter fixed me up."

"Good work, drug dealer," Andrew said.

"No problem," Carter answered.

"Hey, who's this fucker here?" Henry demanded. "Hey, freshman! Stand up at attention! You, blond guy! Get over here!"

While his classmates went rigidly to attention again, Peter Lancaster sprinted over and stood in front of the greatest rulers his school had ever seen, openly staring at them in awe even as he snapped to attention again.

"Kid looks like he's trying to copy you, Carter," Mark noted.

"We're friends," Carter said. "I let him know on Friday. He's a good kid. Best football and hockey player we had this year on the JV team. He follows orders. He lives for football and hockey and he hates weakness. He's got a lot of potential."

"Pretty fit for a 9th grader," Henry observed. "Looks like he comes from strong stock. He get laid yet?"

"Just last night. He told me about it."

"Okay, kid, tell us about it," Mark challenged.

Peter started talking in a calm, steady voice, graphically describing his night with a sophomore beauty. He got more and more descriptive as Henry and Mark ordered him to add more details, until finally he was talking about every possible aspect of what he did, what she did, how it all went, and how he felt about his first time then and now. His cheeks heated but he didn't stutter or halt once.

"What's your name?" Henry demanded.

"Peter Lancaster, sir."

"Sir!" Henry laughed. "I _like_ that."

"He called you sir!" Mark chuckled. "Good job, kid. You get to live today."

"We once broke a freshman's neck because he didn't call me sir," Henry explained. "Just grab, twist, snap. It's okay. Kids that age are disposable anyway. Your life doesn't really matter until you're in 11th grade. Until then you're fodder. You agree?"

"Yes, sir!"

"You like being friends with Carter and Mikey here?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Carter likes you," Mark went on, "and that says a lot. How about you join Andrew, Mikey, Carter, and some of the other upperclassmen at our house? We have our own gym in the basement."

"I'll drive you over there," Carter laughed, clapping the freshman on the back. Already over-awed by getting so close to a pair of living legends, Peter almost fell over as even a casual blow from Carter hit him with considerable force.

"Go stand with the other freshmen," Carter told him. "You're their king. Stick with me, then with Mikey next year, and you'll go far. Nothing will ever stop you. Understand?"

"Yes, sir- yes, Carter," Peter nodded fervently. "I understand."

"Okay, boys," Henry roared, raising his voice effortlessly to carry the entire length and breadth of the crowd of high school athletes. "Mark and I are back to see how our old teams are doing. Have Carter and Mike done a good job?"

"YES, SIR!" the boys roared back.

"I agree! Only they didn't bring in an undefeated season! Only Mark and I did that, and we did it year after year after year! That's perfection! We _are _perfection! But you people obviously haven't listened to Carter and Mike close enough, or maybe you'd never have lost! But because you guys still kicked the shit out of the other teams, because you won State again for football and hockey, I'll tell you what I'm gonna do."

Henry pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, exposing his massive chest, the rippling, bulging muscles that decorated his entire frame. Numerous pairs of eyes widened and Carter smiled, knowing that yet another reason had been added as to why this visit would be remembered forever.

"Football game, right now, shirts and skins!" Henry announced. "Carter, you're with me. Time to pick teams. Mark and I're gonna show you little girls how to play some real football."

"Peter, get over here!" Carter shouted.

The tough little freshman sprinted over and promptly yanked his shirt off, flexing his pectoral muscles impressively. Or trying to, anyway; Carter gave one quick flex and humbled the younger boy, only to have the same done to him by Henry, who laughed and clapped him on one shoulder.

"It's okay, Carter," Henry said. "You and Mikey, you're the strongest of mortals. But just remember that Mark and I are gods."

* * *

**A/N: 5-9-2020.**

**And finally, I managed to update this story! A second prologue chapter is now done. Chapter 1 was posted on 10-14-2019, so it's been almost 7 months to the day. Pretty incredible how fast time flies. As AM83220 can tell you, though, I've made plenty of progress with getting my ideas lined up for the story, establishing the lead-up to the main events of this work, which will take place starting in 2009.**

**Egalatarian Helper sent me a PM back in February 2020, asking when I'd be updating this story. Lack of access to a working laptop got in my way at the time, but I resolved that problem finally in late April 2020. I am now back at it and making good progress getting Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 outlined. Ironically, I started working on Chapter 4 recently, alternating between it and Chapter 2, so 2 and 4 are both done and nearly done respectively. But I need to write 3 before I can post 4! I'll have plenty of time for editing at any rate. No guarantees about when Chapter 3 will be posted, but my goal is to get it posted by the end of, say, June 2020, which gives me more than a month to work with.**

**AM83220 is very much the reason this story exists, as it was him that contacted me back in 2012, if I remember right, asking me to write a sequel to "The Second Face." And here we are. So make sure to send him a PM if you liked my work, and consider looking at his writing, too. It's excellent.**

**There are two other authors/users on this site I should mention; fear2breathe and phorosz. They're both eloquent and generous readers/reviewers and I have enjoyed reading their own work on this fandom. I sincerely hope they are able to read this sometime, because they deserve the praise. Thank you both; you make this small fandom a great deal more fun and satisfying to post work in.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

**June 6, 2003**

* * *

John LaFleur guided the brand-new Mercedes easily into the parking space in front of Maria's, one of his favorite Italian restaurants and by far one of the best in Portland. Its low diesel growl was very different from the deep rumble of John's Olds 442, but Mom and Dad had insisted that, with a baby on the way, John and his wife needed a more refined, accommodating car, one meant for a family.

"I don't know how you managed to get a spot here tonight," Cindy remarked.

"The same way I got one of these," John replied, holding up his gold marriage ring.

"By being sexy, clever, brilliant, amazing in bed, the hunkiest guy in the world, and-"

"Cindy," John protested, blushing crimson. "I meant I just asked nicely."

"Oh, you do a lot more than ask nicely," Cindy laughed. "So, how're we gonna tell our son he happened on a nice spot of moss out in the woods in a state park in Virginia?"

"We're not," John replied. "I mean, that was your idea."

"You loved it," Cindy insisted.

"Yeah, but that's- well, I love you."

"All I have to do is drop a hint and you're already undressing."

"You like it that way," John told her. "Don't even deny it."

"I'm not," Cindy snickered. "What a dad our kids are gonna have."

"Are you done teasing me?" John asked with mock weariness.

"Nope."

"Okay." John shut the Mercedes off, reached out and took Cindy's hand. "How is he?"

"Kicking a lot today," Cindy said. She winced, then placed John's hand on her swollen belly. Sure enough, he could feel a few thumps and couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, look at the two of you," Cindy fussed good-naturedly. "Having a good time at my expense."

"Pretty sure he's in there because of a good time at my expense." John grinned. "I paid for the cabin and the parking pass, remember?"

"I don't know how I ever survived eight years of going to school with you."

"Because I'm… cute?"

"You're hot, but it'd be better if you weren't so damn happy about it!"

"What, can't I be proud of how I look?"

Cindy slapped him gently. "John, let me out of the car already."

"Yes, my love," John said, grinning impishly.

He got out of the E-class, went around to the front passenger door, and opened it, taking Cindy's hand as she stood up. She was quite stunning tonight, wearing a beautiful red dress that stretched nicely over her many curves. John was responsible for the biggest one, but Cindy had all but bullied him into it, so he didn't have any regrets. Besides, getting ready to become a dad and a Navy submarine officer both was incredibly exciting.

"Is Jackson gonna be here on time?" Cindy asked as John closed the passenger door for her.

"Has he ever been late in his life?" John laughed.

"He's a dumb jock with huge, fantastic muscles, and you make him sound like he's actually a good friend."

"He's both," John retorted. "And don't go saying he's got bigger muscles than me! Mine are very nice."

"Eight years later and we're still bickering like a couple of kids," Cindy said with a smile. "You're so sensitive. That's why teasing you never gets old."

"You always gotta mess with me," John fussed.

"You like it when I do," Cindy said, putting her arms around his neck and nibbling at his ear. "Say it, John."

"I-ow-I-ooh! I like it when you do."

"See," she whispered in his ear, "was that so bad? You get a reward tonight. Something special, for being a good husband."

John felt his pale face heating up. "Oh, really?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light.

"Yes. And make it double because of your big muscles."

"I love you so much," John said, kissing her on the lips.

"Still a horny, childish boy," Cindy teased, smiling up at him. "All I need to do is promise some fun and you love me. That's okay. I'm still working on you."

"Uh, so how am I coming along?" John asked.

"Just fine," Cindy said with satisfaction.

Just as John was about to ask what exactly his 'reward' would be later tonight, his phone started going off. John dug into his khaki shorts, searching the right pocket until he found the damn thing hiding behind his wallet. He took it out and opened it.

"Hello?"

"Where did you say this fucking place was?"

"It's off South Main Street, Jackson, we went over this."

"Well, it's not my fault I never- what? Jennifer, I said- John, this place better be as good as I remember, man. I'm fuckin' hungry."

"You need me to come out there and wave you in with a big neon sign, Annapolis man?"

"Scott's not here, you know. He's training with the American men's soccer team all summer. So if I plant my foot up your ass-"

"Oh, you wanna talk about entering my ass? I didn't think you were the type, dude."

"I see you, smartass," Jackson Lee said. "Be fucking glad that I like you." He hung up.

When Jackson's imposing black Chevrolet Tahoe pulled up beside John and Cindy, it obscured the view of a black Hummer H1 that John had only barely glanced at. The tall, broad-shouldered Jackson Lee practically leapt from the Tahoe and embraced John like a brother, knocking him back against the Mercedes.

"Look at you, VMI man," Jackson exclaimed. "Good to see you, you fucking dork."

"Hey, guys," Jennifer Lee called, clearly used to her husband's antics.

"Hey, Jenn," Cindy replied. "You want me to separate these two?"

"It's honestly kind of fun to watch," Jennifer said.

"How'd we wind up with them?"

"All those big muscles hide a lot of perfect husband material," Jennifer laughed. "You should listen to some of the poetry he writes for me."

"Don't you dare," Jackson exclaimed. "I told you not to bring that up!"

"I can embarrass you if I want," Jennifer said reasonably.

"Let her out of the car," Cindy said.

"Yes, ma'am," Jackson replied, heading around to the far side of the Tahoe. He opened the door, bowed elegantly, and managed to slowly flex his massive biceps as he reached out to take Jennifer's hand, emphasizing how tightly his blue Ralph Lauren polo clung to them.

"Not showing off at all," John commented to Cindy.

"No, not him," Cindy agreed. "Never."

John took Cindy's hand as Jackson and Jennifer came around the front of the Tahoe, noting how far along Jennifer was. Both couples had broken military regulations and married before John and Cindy had graduated from VMI, or Jackson from the Naval Academy. John didn't regret getting married early. Neither his family nor Cindy's had complained, and he and Jackson had each come to the other's wedding as a guest of honor. Scott Shepard, of course, was at both as the best man.

"Shall we?" John asked.

"Let's," Jackson agreed.

As the two couples headed for the front doors of the restaurant, two tall, broad-shouldered young men came out. They were laughing about something, each holding a cigarette. The blond pulled out a lighter and paused, seeing the four people in front of him for the first time. A mocking smile emerged on his face, and he lit his cigarette before flicking it at Jackson.

"Get outta my face, asshole," Jackson growled, smacking the cigarette aside in midair.

"Oh, what'll you do if I don't?" Henry Evans laughed.

"You know what I'll do," Jackson said menacingly. "I took on you and your stupid brother before. You feel like trying it again?"

"We would've killed you if the teachers hadn't broken up that fight," Mark Evans promised. "There's no teachers here."

"Yeah, only cops, and your ass going to prison for assault."

Henry pointed at Cindy, then at Jennifer. "Oh, no… girls, you can't be serious… wow." He laughed uproariously. "Really? Cindy, babe, you let this little faggot- oh, wow. And, Jennifer, girl, I thought you had better taste than that. You really let this stupid Korean meathead put a kid in you?"

Jackson lunged forward, shouting something in Korean, but John was quick and got hold of him just in time. Jackson's arms and shoulders were fully tensed; it was like grasping steel shaped like a human.

"We're just here to eat," John said reasonably. "Nobody needs to start a fight here. Okay?"

"Listen to the little fag, playing peacemaker," Mark observed. "Does Cindy ever tell you how she fucked me and my brother? Only girl we both gave it to. And she begged for it, man. She loved us."

"She told me all about that," John said calmly. "It's in the past now. She's been with me for eight years."

"You guys weren't really that great," Cindy added. "And John's got more than you'll ever know. Maybe you should've asked him. He could've taught you guys something."

Mark turned red and suddenly Henry lunged for him, grabbing his brother and wrestling him back.

"Let me _go_! Fucking lying _bitch_, I'll-"

"What?" Cindy demanded. "You'll what, Mark?"

Quite a few people inside and outside the restaurant were watching now; Henry whispered something to Mark, who relaxed and smoothed down his polo after a few moments. The brothers looked around, clearly not liking the presence of an audience.

"Weak fucks like you people shouldn't be allowed to breed," Mark hissed. "You guys have fun. I got places to be." He made to shove his way past the two couples, but instead they just moved out of the way, denying him the opportunity.

"We're going to go see Michael Cadiz and his family at their house," Henry added smugly. "He just graduated high school today and asked us to be there, and to come by for dinner. Mark and I have more kids trying to be exactly like us every year. They text us, email us, call us, and we always have time for them. But you two faggots wouldn't know anything about having people idolize you. And you never will."

"Have fun with this meathead, Jenn," Henry said. "And enjoy having kids with an effeminate loser, Cind. I thought I taught you girls better than this. But, uh, enjoy. If that's what you want."

"Go fuck yourself, Henry," Cindy said sweetly.

Henry's cheeks tinged pink under the streetlamp. "I'll remember that," he promised. "I always remember. Someday you'll learn some manners." He walked off without another word.

Jackson waited until Henry and Mark got into the enormous black Hummer wagon, started it up, and drove off before going inside. John followed him, shifting his thoughts back to the evening as it had been planned.

"They were always obsessed with themselves," Cindy said, shaking her head. "I don't know why I didn't see it."

"In the past, babe," John said, kissing her on the cheek. "Like you said."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Mark was seething as Henry drove away from the restaurant, visibly beside himself. Henry decided against going home directly and instead took them out on some of their favorite backroads, places where they'd picked up some of their best kills.

Sure enough, after enough cruising and talking to Mark, Henry spotted two high school girls. Track runners, probably sophomores. Young, attractive, and, thanks to rain that was beginning to come down, in need of a quicker route home.

"Mark, gimme a second here," Henry said. "I think we got a chance for some fun."

"Good thing it's dark," Mark grouched. "This fuckin' truck is pretty recognizable."

"There's no one around. _And_ it's dark. If we get 'em in the Beast fast, no one will ever connect us and them."

"Barely look like they're out of middle school," Mark grunted.

"They're probably virgins," Henry thought aloud. "You feel like having some fun?"

"I'm always up for some fun," Mark replied.

"Good," Henry said with a smile. He slowed the truck as they came to a curve, gradually matching pace with the two girls. The brunette glanced at her partner, the blonde, and then at the truck again.

"Roll down your fucking window, could you?" Henry asked with mock impatience.

Mark hit the power button and leaned out, offering one of his wholesome, charming smiles.

"Hey," he called out. "You girls oughta hop in. It's raining too hard out here."

"Uh, I don't know," the brunette said uncertainly, glancing at her friend. "Who are you guys?"

"I'm Mark Evans," Mark said, offering his hand. "Seriously. It's nice to meet you."

The girls looked at each other again.

"You're him? The Mark Evans?" the blond asked.

"That's me. The one and only, babe."

"C'mon, Carol," the blonde told her friend. "Let's go. My brother's gonna love it when I tell 'im we got to meet the Evans brothers."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

The process went as it always did. Flawlessly, effortlessly, Henry and Mark sighted their target, made a plan, lured them away from witnesses or troublemakers, and did what they wanted after that. The girls got so excited about meeting the local celebrities that they forgot all about their cell phones, which Mark got up front under the pretense of drying them off and charging them, and forgot all about going back to their houses until it was far too late.

Once inside the house, wrists bound and mouths closed by tape, the girls were easy prey. Mark had the brunette. He stripped naked at the base of the Grand Staircase, cut her clothes off with his stiletto, and used her while Henry did the same with the blonde. Mark's size caused the girl obvious pain and he relished, inflicting all the cruelty he could never do to Julie.

After finishing a fifth time, Mark pulled out and waggled his penis at the brunette, who was still crying and mumbling things. "You're the best, babe," he sighed, laughing at her. "Oh, man. I almost worked up a sweat."

"Mark, you don't need to fuckin' talk to her," Henry breathed, still humping away. "Fuck. Shit. Oh, man, I'm almost ready. Holy fuck- fuck-" he groaned, clenching and unclenching his buttocks.

"Having fun there, my man?" Mark asked.

"Shut-up-ohhh… oh, man, that's good. That was good."

"You _sound_ like you're having fun."

Henry pulled out, turned, and tried to slap Mark, who dodged him easily.

"Mark, don't bother me while I'm trying to enjoy myself. I was at the best fucking part and you almost messed me up!"

Mark just sat back on his elbows, grinning. "Your ass is still pale as a sheet of paper, Henry."

"I still got a bigger cock than you."

"No, you don't. We're the same size."

"Shit, you wanna measure?"

"Anytime. I'll _embarrass_ you."

"We got the _same_ upgrades from this place."

"The same Evans genes."

"Well, the best of 'em," Henry said. "How we got Connie I dunno."

"You think she's done any breeding yet?" Mark asked. "She's sixteen."

"Ugh, I don't wanna even think about it," Henry said, shrugging his buff shoulders and shuddering. "Maybe somehow she'll fuck a strong guy and he'll make someone more like us. But that's not my fuckin' problem."

Mark sat up, going for his knife. "Watch this," he told Henry. He looked down at the girl, snapping out the switchblade again. "You remember how I told you I'd fuck you and maybe then I'd let you go?"

The brunette nodded frantically, eyes deliciously alive with fear. Beside her, the blonde did much the same, looking at Mark, then Henry, then to Mark again.

"Well, I'm not so sure," Mark sighed. "Yeah, see, my brother and I, we got a reputation to keep. And we kinda just raped you and your friend. If we let you go, you'll tell anyone who'll believe you."

"Not that many people will," Henry went on. "If we were gonna let you go, we'd clean you up. There'd be no proof."

"I mean, thing is, we both kinda forgot to pull out a few times," Mark laughed. "So-" he stuck the stiletto under the brunette's chin, driving it in until he hit bone. The gush of blood was immediate, gratifying. Mark caught a pungent smell as the girl kicked and flailed her legs, weaker by the second, and saw urine pooling between her legs. "Nice," he commented, wrinkling his nose.

Henry, who had been playing with his knife, idly turning it over between his fingers, sighed as the blonde's eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.

"Well, I'm gonna have one more, I guess. Then we can just toss her in the wine cellar."

"Fine, get on with it," Mark said. "I wanna go up to the Library."

"Six or seven minutes," Henry answered. "Ten at the most. And you shut up. I wanna enjoy this."

"Fine, fine," Mark laughed. "I'm telling you, though, a nude beach trip and we could-"

"You shut up!"

Mark just grinned. A few snorts escaped him, but he kept it together otherwise. Henry sighed, shrugged, and turned back to the blonde. Mark sat and watched as his brother positioned himself, entered, used the girl, and true to his word finished nine and a half minutes later. The girl woke up halfway through, but Henry warned her to shut the fuck up if she wanted to live. Even with her friend dead beside her, the blonde instantly went silent and still, relying, as nearly all of them did, on the hope that compliance would result in mercy.

Henry slapped her a few times, demanding that she cry, and Mark laughed when she started sobbing as if on cue. Then, as they had done so many times before, Henry and Mark stood up, took hold of her, and hauled her off to the chilly depths of the massive wine cellar below the kitchen. They left her down there, knowing the house would take care of the rest. She and her friend would stay here forever, thanks to Fleetwood Hall's gift for trapping and consuming human souls.

After walking back to the entrance hall, Mark and Henry paused to fold their clothes a little more neatly. Figuring there was no need to get dressed just yet given where they were going, they picked up their clothes and headed on to the Glass Library.

"Henry," Mark said as they went down the hall, loving the deep, luxurious carpeting under his feet, "I don't like that faggot and that fucking gook breeding."

"The inferior races should never be allowed to mate," Henry agreed. "But unless we kill them and their whores, it's just something we're stuck with."

"Well, why don't we fucking kill 'em?" Mark demanded. "Those two've crossed us and they're fucking weak. We should get rid of them."

"We could," Henry said. "But then that's four people, and they don't have any association with us. It'll be hard to get them by themselves."

"We could still do it," Mark insisted.

"The real problem isn't them. It's all the inferiors getting together and breeding," Henry went on. "We just can't kill them all, Mark."

"We can fucking try!"

"Not if we want to be there for the boys," Henry told him. "We're fathers now, Mark. The boys depend on us to maintain a respectable image. We can't go around killing all the weaklings and faggots and gooks and shit. There's too many. We literally don't have that kind of time."

"Well, I'm gonna go fuck Julie some more, then," Mark said heatedly, "because if those fuckers can keep breeding, then so can I!"

Henry stopped, looking at Mark with one of his odd stares. His eyes were intense, yet far-off, searching, thinking.

"What?" Mark asked irritably. He was in no mood for Henry's "investigate, it's scientific" crap.

"Mark," Henry said, "you _could_ do that. Julie'll have another kid for you. You could have _two _boys."

"Huh?"

"Get her pregnant again, Mark," Henry urged. "Two boys, two heirs. Two guys to pass on your genes instead of one."

"Yeah, but, what about you? I've got Julie to carry my kid for me just like last time, but Lisa kind of went and 'disappeared.'"

"I'll make some slut fall in love with me," Henry replied casually. "Maybe I'll fuck a teacher this time. More your style."

"And then Julie's gonna have to adopt him."

"Yep."

"What if either of these whores puts out a girl?"

"Oh, we'll need to arrange a miscarriage before that happens," Henry said. "We don't need that shit."

"How'm I supposed to get Julie to keep four kids for me?" Mark demanded, suddenly getting frustrated. "Henry, she pesters me enough about marriage as it is. She's gonna want me around more, and she's gonna fucking complain, but you know what? I'm not fuckin' marrying her. She can go fuck herself. Better yet, she can blow me."

"Well, I guess we could- no…" Henry muttered, pacing around in the hallway. "Mark, this is getting complicated."

"I mean, we can just do what we did last time."

"Four boys will be a lot, and it was tricky getting a single mom to adopt once already," Henry replied. "How's she gonna convince them to give her a fourth kid while she's got three already? Legally, she's by herself."

"I'll just throw some money at her. Hire some more help. It's whatever."

"Mark-"

"There's no reason we can't make it work," Mark said insistently. "We've always gotten what we want. Why not now?"

"Listen to me, Mark," Henry said, closing the distance between them and setting his hands on Mark's shoulders. "Listen. Okay?"

"Okay." Mark nodded, meeting Henry's eyes steadily. He might have been frustrated and annoyed- and why not? He had always been passionate!- but Mark always, _always _listened to Henry.

"Because of the sheer fucking number of losers breeding out there, we've decided to each have another boy. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Mark said firmly. He liked the idea. He was extremely proud to have fathered one magnificent son and couldn't wait to have another. He treasured that vision he and Henry had shared, the one where they'd ruled the Third Reich together, each of them accompanied by the two finest of their many sons fathered through the Lebensborn program.

"The boys need to all grow up under one roof. Julie's doing a job we need her to do. You need her to have your second heir, and the best way to make sure mine can wind up with him is…"

"Oh, no," Mark groaned. "You mean I gotta _marry her_?"

"Yes, Mark."

"She's a _whore_! She's just a fucking slut, all she does is lie there and take it anytime I say!"

"And she's helping raise our boys."

"Fuck that, I'm- I mean, _we're_-"

"No, she's helping. Like a maid. Or a pet dog."

Mark laughed. "That's better."

"Well, whaddya say?"

"I was never supposed to marry her," Mark fumed. "It was all about _me_. I wanted to have fun. So why the hell should I let her have this little fantasy of hers?"

Henry gently squeezed Mark's shoulders. "Listen, I never said you had to actually love the bitch. This is just a new change in the plan. You didn't exactly plan on getting her pregnant the first time, did you?"

"Well, no," Mark said sheepishly. "I… yeah, I kinda forgot. About the pills."

"Alex _exists _because you forgot," Henry said. "And he's the strongest boy in the world apart from Richard."

"Oh, bull_shit_," Mark blustered, "my son's _twice_ as powerful as-"

"Marry the whore, Mark," Henry said gently. "Buy a ring, sign some papers, change her last name, be the official man of the house. She'll get to move around with you in the Marines and that'll make it easier for us to see the boys. Way easier."

Mark wanted very badly to go on arguing. He looked back at Henry, knowing that want was plain on his face. But as much as he tried to come up with something, Mark knew he had no leg to stand on. Henry's logic was impeccable, as it always was. He was right. With two more boys coming into the picture now, the importance of a unified, organized household where Mark held the power he needed to was essential.

_I gotta do this? Seriously? I never wanted to get married. Ever. Not even pretending._

_It's all a big show_, Henry answered. Mark could hear him clearly, even though Henry's lips hadn't moved. _You're not doing it for her. You're doing it for our boys. They need you to be Mr. Evans officially. It'll make everything easier, Mark. We'll be in their lives just the way they need us to be. Do it for them._

Mark sighed, but he finally nodded. _Okay._

_Don't worry_, Henry assured him. _We'll plan this out. Every detail._

_How am I gonna tell Susan and Wallace I'm marrying a teacher who's already got two kids? You know how they are._

Henry smiled. _See, that's just what I mean. Don't worry. We'll play them like a fuckin' violin._

_Like we always do, you mean._

_Yeah, man, there you go._

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Once in the Glass Library, Henry and Mark laid their clothes out and sat down, relaxed and happy to be at the heart of the place that had given them so much. They loved it here and treasured every visit.

"Mark," Henry said, "before we go under, I had another idea just now."

"Yeah?" Mark replied.

"We're gonna become sperm donors."

"And why the fuck would we do that?"

"To pass on our superior genes to even more women," Henry explained. "See, we're literally perfect donors in every way. Think about everything that goes on the checklist of a desirable donor and we have it. There's no way women won't be picking our donations again and again. And every kid they have using our sperm is another kid we created."

"I'd rather make them all myself," Mark said. "And I'm not fucking jacking off into a cup."

"Mark, if we gotta do it we gotta do it," Henry said reasonably. "Name one reason why we shouldn't donate and have even more kids with our fucking superhuman genes out there."

Henry laughed as his brother grumbled something and crossed his powerful arms over his massive chest, looking for all the world like he'd been told he couldn't go in the cookie jar.

"All right," Mark agreed. "Let's do it. I'm gonna punch you once for every time I have to jack off in a cup, though."

"You can try," Henry said with a grin. "And, you know, you don't have to do it that way. You can just fuck Julie and then come in the cup or whatever they give you."

"Oh, you really think I'm gonna bother with-"

"You _just said_ you didn't wanna jack off in a cup!"

"This is dumb."

"_You're_ dumb."

"Oh, that's _real mature_, Lieutenant."

"How about we just agree to go on over to some clinics and get signed up to be donors, and then figure out the how later?"

"Fine. You're right," Mark said. "It makes sense to do that. Helps give us even more of a legacy."

"Ah," Henry sighed, lying down with his hands behind his head. "I _love_ being right."

_You fucking prick_, Mark told him telepathically.

_I love you, Mark_, Henry replied as he closed his eyes and they went under the floor together.

_Always_, Mark responded.

They dreamed not of another world or a past life this time, but of the recent past, the day when Alex and Richard had met. It had been an interesting day to say the least, but Henry and Mark had fixed the issues that arose almost immediately.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Henry brought his son into the room gently, cradling him in his arms. Mark's boy, Alexander, gazed up at his father and uncle. As usual, he observed before saying or doing anything. He got up, looked at the infant in Henry's well-muscled arms, then plopped back down again.

"Now," Henry said with a smile, "this is your brother, Alex. His name's Richard."

"Kay," Alex said.

Henry knelt and offered Richard to Alex, who stared at the small boy, looking unimpressed. "Go on," Henry encouraged. "You two are gonna be best friends. Just like your dad and me."

Alex got up, took a few steps forward, reached for Richard with his tiny hands. Richard sighed, shifted in his father's arms, and closed his eyes.

"Not much of a first meeting," Mark laughed.

"You shut up," Henry fussed. "See, your son's already coming over to say hi to his brother!"

Alex had closed the distance to the blond infant; he appeared quite focused, indeed, a look that Henry assumed to mean interest and enthusiasm, the things he and Mark wanted to see.

In a lightning-fast gesture, Alex put his hands to Richard's throat and squeezed hard.

"Urg!" Richard exclaimed, his eyes flying open. He opened his mouth to wail, but he couldn't draw the air. His face began to show a hint of blue.

"Hey!" Henry cried. "Stop that!"

Giving no sign that he'd even heard his uncle, Alex just kept squeezing, that same look of fierce intent on his face. His expression was otherwise blank, his eyes pitiless, cold.

"Alex, let go right now!" Mark ordered.

When nothing happened, Henry, growing truly frightened for his son's safety, gave one flex of his mighty legs and stood to his full height. The auburn-haired toddler hung on even then, refusing to concede, but finally his hands slipped. Mark caught him and whisked him back to a safe distance as Richard took in a deep breath and bawled.

"Oh, that's just wonderful," Henry complained. "Great. Fantastic. Little jerk tried to choke my kid!"

"I didn't know he was gonna do that!" Mark exclaimed, looking between Alex and Richard in alarm.

"Guys," Julie called out, hurrying in from the kitchen. "Guys, what's going on? Why's Richard so upset?"

"Nothing," Henry quickly lied. "Alex just- uh, got a little excited, meeting Richard for the first time." He looked down at Richard, hugging the infant gently. "It's okay," Henry soothed. "It's all right. Dad's here. You're fine, Rich. Everything's fine."

"Babe," Mark said, "I think now's a good time for us to have some boys' time out. We'll be back for dinner."

Julie thought to protest, but when she saw the firm but gentle set of Mark's face, she knew better than to argue. Mark had made his decision.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Alex tried to kill Richard twice during the drive to Fleetwood Hall, forcing Mark to hold the toddler up front while the infant rode in the back in his safety seat.

"Sonofabitch," Henry grouched. "Fuck, Mark, what the hell's the matter with him? Why's Alex doing this?"

"Fuck," Alex said. "Fuck."

"Shh, Alex," Mark told him. "I don't know, Henry. He just won't stop. He's a toddler, what'm I supposed to do!"

"Any other kid put his hands on my boy, I'd break 'em!" Henry insisted. "I don't- oh, hell, we'll fix this. The house will fix this. It always does."

"Yeah," Mark sighed wearily, gently tightening his grip as Alex tried to squirm free again, looking hungrily toward the Jeep's back seat. "Killer, you gotta save it for people who aren't your brother."

Alex just squirmed even more. Mark hugged him. "You're gonna kill so many people, Alex. And whatever's wrong, the house can help."

"Nohep," Alex said. "Nohep, fuck."

"What nice words he's learning," Henry commented. He paused the Jeep at the gate, drove in, stopped and turned off the engine. He got out and gently lifted Richard out of his car seat. Richard fussed some at being disturbed again, but he nestled into his father's arms instinctively and was already drifting off again when Mark brought Alex around and the four of them headed for the front door.

"I'm sorry my son did that, Henry," Mark said. "I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Must be some- some fuckin' instinct he's got," Henry said. "Like, first thing he does is try to kill the new baby in the house. Like it was automatic for him."

"I never taught him to do that," Mark replied fretfully. "I made Alex. I'm his dad. He needs to do whatever I want."

"Oh, welcome to parenting, Mark," Henry laughed.

"Big, fat help you are," Mark replied.

"We'll get the boys some bonding time here," Henry said. "No problem at all."

"That's good," Mark answered. "Last thing we need is them trying to fuckin' kill each other some more."

"Fuck," Alex said. He burped.

"You hush up," Mark told him. "You're supposed to kill people, but not him! He's your brother. Brothers don't do that to each other.

"Legoda," Alex responded. "Leggo."

Richard was sleeping peacefully when they got up to the Glass Library and walked out to the center of the cavernous room. Henry undressed him and laid him out on his back; Mark did the same for Alex, who did not look amused, but lay beside Richard easily enough.

"Take these two," Henry asked humbly as both he and Mark bowed their heads. "Take them and make them brothers."

Richard and Alex slipped beneath the floor almost immediately.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Charged up and feeling truly alive, the way he always did after going under the floor in the Glass Library, Henry was all smiles as he returned home, to the house where everything had revolved around him since 1981, and around him and Mark since 1994. They owned this place and it would stay that way as long as they lived. Henry knew his life would ultimately be short, but while it lasted, he would never, ever be questioned under this roof.

"Hello," Henry called out as he and Mark came in the front door.

"Hey," Connie replied from the living room, glancing up briefly from her phone.

"Hey, Henry. Hey, Mark," Susan called from the kitchen.

"Hi there, boys," Wallace said, looking out from his study.

As Henry entered the kitchen, he put his powerful arms around his mother with what she thought was gentle care and love. He could have crushed her, killed her in an instant, but chose not to. Henry loved wielding that kind of power. As he hugged his mother, Henry said, "Hi, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too, Henry," Susan answered, sounding like she was gonna start crying or something. Henry managed not to laugh as he let go of her, offering his usual charming smile.

"Mom, I gotta tell you something," Mark said, after he gave Susan a hug of his own.

"Sure, Henry," Susan said, looking up from the tomatoes she was cutting. "What is it?"

"I think I better go buy an engagement ring tomorrow."

"A- Mark!" Susan exclaimed. "You- are you serious?"

"Yes, Mom. There's this- well, she's the one. I started seeing her on and off a while back…" Mark smiled modestly. "I'm really happy, Mom. I'm gonna go propose to her tomorrow night. I don't wanna wait any longer."

"Wallace!" Susan cried. "Get in here!"

"What is it, hon?" Wallace called out, hurrying down the hall and into the kitchen. He looked around, obviously concerned. "What's going on?"

"Mark's getting married, Wallace," Susan told him, barely containing her excitement. "He's been hiding a special someone from us. But now, we get to finally meet her, don't we, Mark?"

"Yes," Mark agreed. He shrugged. "I'm not sure just when, pretty soon. She's kinda shy about meeting you guys. We've talked about it a few times. She's really looking forward to it."

"Well, Mark, that's great!" Wallace exclaimed. "Hey, Connie!"

"What?"

"Mark's getting married!"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, Conse," Mark shouted. "Now come in here and lemme tell everybody about it at once!"

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

After dinner, once Henry and Mark had gone upstairs to hang out in one of their rooms for a while, Wallace poured a glass of port for himself and his wife, offering her the drink with a smile.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Wallace said.

"Well, you know those two," Susan replied with a good-natured laugh. "Just look at how much they played the bachelor in high school."

"I never did get all the girlfriends straight."

"It was all just a show to keep everyone busy while they figured things out," Susan pronounced. "Imagine what it must've been like for them. Going into high school already that popular; the pressure must've been unbearable. So they just made up their minds that they'd be the romantic bachelors forever." Susan smiled. "And eventually things changed."

"They sure did. This Julie must really be something."

"Of course. I know the boys never really talked to us about it too much, but I think they were trying to sort a lot of things out behind the scenes. You know, the cool tough guy look. Like I said, all part of the show."

"But two kids?" Wallace shook his head. "I never imagined Mark would go for that."

"It's not exactly a problem, is it?" Susan asked.

"No," Wallace allowed. "I mean, I guess part of me would've liked it a little better if Mark married somebody his age, someone who doesn't have any kids yet."

"I think we both hoped-" Susan hesitated. "It's not even that I didn't want the boys to marry someone without kids. I guess we both assumed they would."

"They did date older girls plenty of times," Wallace said. "Who could forget? Their first girlfriends in all four years of high school were in 12th grade!"

"Our boys," Susan laughed, shaking her head. She took a sip from her glass again, staring into it. "It seems like it was just yesterday they were introducing those seniors they met at that party. Now Mark's about to propose to a woman with two kids."

"I trust Mark's judgement completely," Wallace said confidently. "If he says she's the one, then she is. The kids are probably wonderful. Maybe meeting them helped Mark ease into the idea of marrying, having his own family."

"Henry's just crazy about it, Wallace," Susan said, drinking some more of the port. She grinned. "You can see it written on his face. He can't get enough of it. He'll be planning everything, I know it. Mark won't have to do a thing."

"Now, when's Henry's big day gonna come, do you think?" Wallace asked with a wry smile.

"Maybe we should ask him," Susan replied with a wink.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Julie was often thankful that the love of her life was so wealthy and so generous; the money he provided did much to make up for her unremarkable teacher's paycheck and make raising two boys easier. Unable to marry yet, they had decided to hire a nanny to aid Julie in her duties, and Magda Antonova, a Ukrainian-born woman somewhere in her 40s, was everything Julie could have asked for. She was dutiful, loyal, and honest, and she cared about the boys. She made being a (technically) single mother vastly more bearable on many occasions.

She also made it possible for Julie and Mark to have time alone at the house. It wasn't always possible for them to have a romantic night with the boys around, especially if Julie wanted to cuddle atop Mark's bulky frame or Mark wanted to read or fill out something while getting head, both of which required use of the living room couch.

Tonight was different from those "just us" evenings, although Magda had the boys out for the evening, taking them anyplace they liked, just as she did on any other night when the young couple needed time to be together without distractions. But how tonight was different, Julie wasn't sure yet. Mark had been very cryptic about that. He'd called yesterday night and asked Julie to make the necessary arrangements, promising "You'll love it" when Julie asked what he had in mind.

Lastly, Mark had advised Julie to give him an hour at the house by himself, and that she wear her favorite dress while she was out. It sounded as if Mark wanted to do some setup for a romantic dinner at home. Normally, Julie did all the cooking, but a change of pace was fine with her. Julie took more than an hour getting ready, left the house in a stunning red silk dress Mark had bought for her last year, and spent the hour Mark reserved driving around Portland, just seeing the sights for a bit.

Excitement mounted as she began the drive home; surely Mark had something truly special planned for the both of them! It was so much fun whenever he did that. They still acted like a pair of horny teenagers, right down to having sex virtually every time either of them thought of it. Julie wanted it to always stay that way, and Mark obviously did, too.

Mark had left the garage door opener in his Grand Cherokee when he gave it to Julie last year, so Julie tapped the device as she pulled into her driveway and watched the garage door rattle dutifully up. Her boyfriend's titanic red Ford Excursion had less than two full inches of clearance from the garage door, but it was parked inside, the cursive Eddie Bauer trim script glinting in the overhead lights of the garage.

After parking the Jeep and closing the garage door, Julie got out and carefully checked herself in the mirror. She looked and smelled and felt like a million dollars, like the one woman in the world who was good enough to win Mark Evans' eternal love. Julie smiled at her reflection in the Jeep's driver's side mirror, then headed for the kitchen door, her heels clacking as she went.

Her cell phone buzzed as Julie reached for the handle, and Julie paused to check it. She glanced down and saw a text from Mark:

I'm in the living room. Take a second and then come in. Everything's ready.

Mark must have really outdone himself this time. Julie's heart raced just a little bit faster now; tonight was going to be something incredible. She paused a moment, savoring the anticipation, then opened the kitchen door and walked into the house.

In the dining room, Julie could see all the best silver and porcelain set out, candles already lit. The kitchen smelled like heaven. Mark might not have liked cooking that often, but it wasn't for lack of know-how. Julie turned toward the living room and gasped as it came into view.

It was like stepping back in time.

Mark stood in the center of the room, dressed exactly as he had been in his photos from Prom. Even the way he'd styled his hair was the same. He smiled warmly at her, his handsome features so wonderfully accented by the candles he'd placed around the room.

"Hello, Julie," Mark said.

"Mark," Julie breathed. "You did all this?"

"Yes," he said, moving towards her. He took her hands in his. "It's 1999 again, and this time, I'm going to Prom with the woman I love. No more pretending. I'm tired of acting just for appearances. It's all in the past. Tonight we're making up for lost time."

He kissed her. A quick, gentle peck on the lips, just the way he'd done it in her classroom, the day their relationship really began. Julie had finally stopped arguing and accepted what was clearly meant to be. Mark saw that Julie was thinking back and smiled, kissing her again, cupping her chin with one hand.

"Mm," Julie said, delightedly opening her mouth in unison with Mark. Their tongues met and danced, playing back and forth together. Mark got a handful of her ass and she got a handful of his, eliciting one of his happy, low-sounding grunts.

When they finally came up for air, Mark gasped in surprise, looking at her. "You're insatiable, you know that?"

"Look who's talking, Muscles," Julie teased.

"I can't get enough," Mark told her with quiet intensity. "Not ever. Not when I'm with you." He paused. "Julie Michaels, will you go to Prom with me?"

"Yes, Mark Evans, I'd love to."

Mark smiled.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Playing one romantic song after another on a CD player Mark had bought, Julie and Mark swayed and twirled around the living room for quite some time. They never strayed from the other's touch, staying close in the other's arms, as if they could not bear to be apart even by mere inches. Mark looked just as he did at eighteen, having scarcely aged a day, and he talked happily of things going on in his life in senior year as if that really was a current event for him.

Julie was mystified, yet fascinated. The longer their evening went on, the more it felt like Julie had gone back in time. Mark had thought of everything, even pinning up a calendar showing April 1999 on the wall. When they finally adjourned to the dining room, Mark served everything, devouring an enormous serving of steak while Julie had a far more modest portion, some salad, and well-cooked green beans and carrots. They talked effortlessly about Mark's upcoming graduation, final exams, and the end of his time as king of his high school alongside Henry, his beloved sibling. The little smiles they shared now and then were the only sign they knew this was all just a game.

Then, finally, Mark stood and offered her his hand. Julie took it and they headed upstairs together, closing the bedroom door behind them.

"Blow me," Mark said, unbuckling his belt. Julie paused to take off her high heels, knelt and pulled his black dress pants down, then his boxers. She spat on his head just the way he liked, opened her mouth and started. Mark laughed, stroking her hair. "Holy shit. I love high school."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

They made love frantically, energetically, passionately. Like they weren't going to have another night to be together again. Mark's first duty station in the Marines was at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina- hardly a short drive away. He barely spoke to her as one hour stretched into another, but his extraordinary intensity tonight spoke of what was on his mind, what he was feeling and thinking about. He wanted Julie to know what how much he loved her, how he was hers and she was his.

After showering together, Julie experienced a risky, exhilarating ten minutes with Mark on the bathroom sink. He simply held her up, one hand under each of her slender thighs, and had his fun while Julie kept her arms around his neck, trying to hold on. It was perfectly romantic, just what Julie always loved to do. Best of all was the water still dripping off them, slowly mixing with renewed sweat as Mark demonstrated his immense stamina, prowess and strength.

Mark gently carried her back to bed once they were done, and Julie lay there on her back beside him, dozing here and there, trying to just cool off.

"Still got an hour before Magda brings the boys back," she told him.

"Yeah," Mark replied faintly.

They each slept happily for almost thirty minutes, and when Julie started brushing Mark between the legs with one thigh, hoping for a little more fun before they had to be parents again, Mark opened his eyes wide and sat up sharply.

"Shit!"

"Huh?"

"Uh, hang on a second," Mark said, sliding off the bed and grabbing for his dress pants. He rummaged around in the pockets and fished out a small box, spun around, and dropped to one knee. "Julie… I know you've been hoping the time'll be right ever since… you know, senior year. I've been dying to get to do this for years." He paused. "I was supposed to do this earlier, but, uh, here goes." He cleared his throat as Julie got up and stood in front of him, breathless and hopeful, unable to even think, terrified and thrilled like no other moment in her life.

Mark froze as he looked up at her, cleared his throat again and met her eyes steadily once more. "You complete me. From the moment I saw you, you took my breath away. Only when I'm with you am I truly alive. No one other woman in the world is as special as you are, I can only say fate… fate meant for us to be from the beginning. I don't know if I always believed in fate, but I believed in it from the start of senior year. Without you, life isn't worth anything. With you, it's more than I can even imagine."

The auburn-haired 22-year-old carefully opened the small black jewelry box, revealing a spectacular silver engagement ring, crowned by the most beautiful diamond Julie had ever seen.

"Julie Michaels," Mark said, "will you marry me?"

* * *

**A/N: 5-28-2020.**

**Managed to update the chapter again before we even got to June 2020, which puts me ahead of schedule. Chapter 4 is also nearly completed; if I didn't say so before, I actually started work on and basically wrote it before even beginning Chapter 3! Just how it happened to go, odd as it is.**

**June 6, 2003 was a Friday, which fits perfectly with Michael Cadiz graduating high school that day. I cut an earlier planned scene showing Mikey's graduation from high school, mostly because Chapter 3 was getting plenty long enough as it is, and an older, supremely-confident Michael Cadiz and Carter Stevens has already been depicted perfectly well. By June 2003, Andrew Cadiz and his best friend Brian D'Aramitz are done with their junior year of college; they'll graduate in the spring/early summer of 2004.**

**The CHS soccer team has absolutely retained memory of their heroes from the Class of 1999, as well. John, Scott, and Jackson in particular all left a legacy that the subsequent members of the team have done their best to honor. Unfortunately, the football and hockey teams have remained dominant at the school due to their longstanding popularity and the way Henry and Mark brought both teams great prestige during their four years at Chamberlain. I haven't directly depicted the CHS soccer team so far, but they're out there and still holding out against the institutionalized cruelty and evil that the football and hockey boys have long since accepted as a normal part of life on the team.**

**There's no doubt Mark was actually gritting his teeth the whole time as he knelt, made his speech, and proposed to Julie. He never, ever wanted to do that, not for her or for anyone, as Mark views women as disposable toys and detests even pretending to commitment.**

**Henry's logical words to him are based off some back-and-forth between AM83220 and myself on the topic. We raised the question of how could Mark and Henry have Julie adopt two more boys when she's already a single mom with two kids in the house, and quickly realized it just wasn't possible. So to facilitate their updated plans for the future, Mark reluctantly put on a show for Julie and fooled her into thinking the moment she'd dreamed of and yearned for had finally come. Technically it has, but not at all like she thinks.**

**I think I was the one who first thought of Henry and Mark deciding to have another son each, but AM83220 thought of Henry and Mark deciding to become sperm donors. As they see it, it's a chance to further pass on their genes and guarantee an enduring legacy. They don't care about the children who will be born as a result per se, just so long as they're out there. Given the truly excellent traits Henry and Mark have as potential donors- supremely healthy, strong, fit, flawless eyesight, no allergies, that sort of thing- Henry's right that their donations will not only get picked, but get picked frequently. On paper, they're the perfect donors. The genetic flaws that created Henry in the first place may or may not get passed on, though; quite a few of the kids born through their donations will be perfectly normal, healthy children with no sociopathic nature to them at all.**

**I want to specifically thank AM83220, phorosz, and fear2breathe for being the supportive and excellent reviewers and readers that they are. Phorosz and fear2breathe have both written some great works of their own about "The Good Son" and posted it to this site. I highly recommend reading their work as well as mine.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

**October 31, 2003**

* * *

Through the course of the evening, Mark guided his little charges along one street, then another, cheerfully leading his boys, Alex and Richard, on their first Halloween night out. They were dressed warmly and quite happy to be out with the other children, especially since they'd pilfered quite a bit from other kids' plastic pumpkin buckets when they weren't looking. It was only natural; Mark had specifically encouraged them to when Julie wasn't around before they left the house.

Julie, that terrific piece of ass that Mark could never seem to get enough of, was with them too, not that she actually mattered. Mark made sure she felt included, but in reality was merely a witness to events. She had her role, her place. Mark was looking forward to enjoying himself later. Yes, he was. Conceiving a child on Halloween had worked so well last time, after all, so he'd decided on the same date this time.

Finally, with their buckets full, Alex and Richard were escorted back to Mark's metallic red Ford Excursion, his replacement for the Grand Cherokee since bigger was indeed better in his mind. Plus, Henry never stopped talking about the sheer size and power of The Beast, his beloved Hummer H1, so Mark had decided to step up his game in response. Now they owned two enormous, growling diesel trucks, monuments to masculine size and brawn.

"Thanks, Dad," Alex said as Mark buckled him in. "Had a fun time."

"Yes, lotsa fun," Richard added agreeably.

"That's great, guys," Mark said with a grin. "Now, your mother and I are gonna let you have some more candy when we get back, but not too much, okay?"

"Kay."

"Okay."

"Aw, man," Mark said, hugging each of them. "I love you so much. It's been a great Halloween, you know that?"

"Yeah!" Alex said eagerly.

"Yes!" Richard agreed.

Closing the right rear passenger door, Mark embraced his favorite toy, Julie, and 'by accident' grabbed a handful of her ass in doing so. She responded in kind, and Mark looked at her, surprised and amused.

"Did you think I wouldn't do that?" Julie asked, squeezing again. "I like yours, too, you know."

"How much?"

"Too much," Julie laughed. "You're amazing."

"No, you are," Mark told her, kissing her on the lips. "C'mon. Let's go get our kids home. Great first Halloween for the family, right?"

"I didn't expect anything else, Mark."

"Of course," Mark told her with another kiss. "I'm just that good."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

After the boys were safely back to their rooms, teeth brushed and beds tucked, Mark and Julie went to the kitchen. Mark looked at her with those cool blue eyes of his and Julie knew he had something important to say, something that mattered to him. He had such a kind and loving soul, and wore his heart on his sleeve. As if to prove that, he drew close and gently kissed her on the lips, a soft, lingering kiss that lasted almost a minute.

"Julie, I can't wait."

"What do you mean?"

"The wedding's in April. I can't wait that long, Julie. I can't. I love you too much." Mark swept her into his arms, leaned her back and kissed her. It seemed to last forever, and when it ended, Mark was there, still holding her close.

"I love you," Julie told him.

"Julie," Mark said, "Being a dad is the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I found my soul-mate. Everything's been fate so far, and tonight… I know what fate has for us. I know." He paused. "I want another boy."

"Me, too," Julie answered right away.

"Upstairs," Mark said tersely. "We should get upstairs."

Julie nodded, and the young couple quietly headed through the kitchen, upstairs and past the boys' bedroom. Alex and Richard were sleeping soundly, Julie knew. She hoped that what was about to happen wouldn't disturb them. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt butterflies soaring in her stomach.

A baby would soon be growing inside her again. Mark wanted another child. Then there would be another, and another. Julie knew it. This was the sign. They'd had sex so many times for love and for fun, making love like a horny, lustful teenage couple, but Julie knew that she'd be having more children with Mark once they got married, and now, it was time, even if they hadn't said their vows just yet.

Mark gently helped Julie shed her bathrobe, and Julie put her hands where she liked while he undressed, giving him knowing smiles all the while. Then she lay down on the bed, the very one where they'd made Alex. It was time for him to get a little brother.

"I've waited so long for this," Mark murmured, entering her slowly. He was a truly magnificent sight, Hercules in his early twenties. And he was Julie's soul-mate. It was perfect.

"Me, too," Julie managed to say.

"Shh," Mark said, leaning down to kiss her. "Just enjoy this."

Julie did. She savored every second as she and Mark made love for over an hour. When she and Mark were finally done screwing like a couple of high school kids, they were both soaked in sweat and completely exhausted- just like the last time they'd conceived a child. This time, though, they were attempting it on purpose, and Julie lay on her back afterwards, her heartrate gradually slowing as Mark gently rubbed her belly with one hand.

"I love you," Mark told her.

"I love you, too," Julie sighed, smiling back at him.

"This was better than last time," Mark confided softly. "Way better. This time I'm becoming a dad on purpose. I chose it." He sighed. "I hope it's a boy."

Julie, who hoped for a daughter at some point but had no problem with another son, smiled again. "If it is, we better have a good name for him."

"We'll think of one."

"That was amazing," Julie sighed. "Where'd you learn all that stuff, Mark?"

"Experience," Mark shrugged.

"You've sure had plenty of that," Julie laughed.

"Lots with you," Mark went on. "I was still a high school kid when we met. It was so tough… being here, in this bed with you… and having to act like I was just your student. But I managed. You did, too."

"You're the best I ever had, Mark. Nobody else even compares."

"You think he's growing yet?" Mark murmured, patting Julie's belly softly.

"Soon," Julie said. "Anytime now."

"Good."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

When Mark woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed as that his balls still hurt. That was good. He'd exhausted himself last night, almost desperate to conceive a second boy, his second heir. It wasn't that he doubted his ability to conceive, or Julie's ability as a vessel. It was- a primal thing, somehow. Mark couldn't resist the urge when it got to him. If the urge was Make Heirs, that was what he had to do. The night he'd raped his girlfriend at the time, then come over here to Julie's for more, had been the best night of his life. Mark had wanted to relive it, and he'd done an excellent job.

Slipping the covers off, Mark got up and headed for the bathroom, grinning at his magnificent physique, the body that Julie absolutely worshipped. After relieving himself, he took a long shower and shaved, then headed downstairs, enjoying the chance to walk around naked like this. He'd started it during his affair with Julie in 12th grade. The superstar who attended one of Julie's classes had walked around her house naked after school nearly every day of that year. She'd been fucking one of her students in secret and even had a kid as a result, and still, no one had ever found out.

Alex rounded the corner then, coming out of the kitchen with a glass of orange juice in one hand. Mark suddenly hesitated, regarding his son, the handsome boy with the cold eyes, with a mixture of love and awkwardness. He hadn't exactly planned this part. Alex looked surprised for only a moment; his handsome features quickly settled into a neutral expression, and he regarded his father without any outward reaction to the sight.

"Uh, good morning, Alex."

"Hey, Dad."

"So, about this…"

"I saw you fucking Mom last night," Alex replied calmly. "And I know you like sleeping naked anyway."

"Yeah, so-" Mark laughed. "You saw that, huh?"

"Yeah. I saw. You really fucked her brains out."

"You're getting a little brother, dude. Your mom's gonna be pregnant anytime now."

"Why?" Alex asked.

"Well, your Uncle Henry and I decided we should have two heirs. More of you to pass on our genes."

"Because they're superior."

"Yes."

"Okay." Alex shrugged one little shoulder. "I don't want a little brother."

"A kid brother will be great for you and Rich. Don't you love your brother Richard?" Mark asked, sitting down on the carpeted steps beside his son. The little guy was so handsome, so self-possessed, so brilliant. He looked exactly like Mark, too. It made Mark want to cry. Alex was the greatest thing he'd ever done in the world. Creating Alexander the Great was his triumph, his proudest achievement.

Alex shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" Mark asked, trying to hide his surprise.

"I just don't."

Mark hesitated. The boy with the cold blue eyes and auburn hair just sat there, completely at ease, not put off in the slightest by anything. He just gazed at Mark and waited for him to speak again. Mark put an arm around Alex's shoulders and hugged him, but Alex was unmoved by the gesture. He simply sat there, still staring at Mark.

"Alex…"

"Yes, Dad?"

"I wanna tell you a story, okay?"

"Sure, Dad."

"You're a brilliant kid. And if you already know what fucking is, then I guess I can tell you something else."

"What?"

"You- well, I made you by accident."

"What do you mean?"

"Okay, well… see, back in senior year, I was dating this girl, uh- Amy, yeah. That was her name. Anyway, she wouldn't put out, and even though I started fucking your mom around that time, I had to make her pay. So I raped Amy on Halloween. Rape is-"

"I already know what rape is, Dad. If she won't give it up, you take it."

Mark felt a chill go down his spine and resisted the urge to shiver- but just barely. Alex sounded like he was discussing tax law. The flat, matter-of-fact tone in his voice- Mark wasn't sure he'd even heard himself or Henry sound quite that cold.

"Well, yeah. So I raped Amy while we were at this party. I took her back to her house and I wanted more. So I drove over here and fucked your mom until I just fell asleep. I was wiped out. And, I forgot to get her to take her pill like I usually had her to. She got pregnant and a while later, she found out and she told me. I talked to your Uncle Henry, and he said I should keep you as an heir, so I made sure Julie had the baby. So she had you."

"So I was an accident," Alex said. "You guys made a mistake, and that's why I exist."

"Listen," Mark quickly went on, hugging Alex to him again, "I love you. I love you and the fact that I didn't have you on purpose, at first- that doesn't change a thing. I'll always love you and nothing will change that. Okay?"

"You're not gonna _cry_, are you, Dad?" Alex asked, a hint of annoyance coming into his voice.

"I might," Mark joked. "And you can go ahead if you want to. I mean that. Do you want to?"

"No." Alex stared back at him with those flinty, probing eyes, impatiently waiting for Mark to continue.

"Well," Mark went on, "Uncle Henry, he and I decided he should have an heir, too, so he got his girlfriend pregnant and she had Richard nine months later."

"Okay." Alex resumed drinking his orange juice. "Are you gonna fuck Julie some more tonight?"

"Yes," Mark said, "but that's not what I'm talking about. What I mean is, Uncle Henry and I, we love you and Richard. And when you each get a baby brother, we'll love them, too. We'd do anything for you guys and as long as we're alive, we'll be there for you."

"Okay."

Mark sat there expectantly, waiting for more, for some kind of reaction to him pouring his heart out like that, telling his boy, for the first time, how he really felt. Not just in words, but in embracing him, in the emotion that came into his voice, the way he almost cried as he spoke of a subject as near and dear to him as anything. Alex just sat there patiently, drinking his goddamn orange juice, offering no reaction at all.

"Alex," Mark said finally.

"What, Dad?"

"Don't you… what do you think about that?"

"Nothing." Alex shrugged. "What? Am I supposed to say something?"

"Well, I love you. You mean everything to me, just like Uncle Henry does."

"Him?" Alex asked, frowning. "Why's _he_ matter to you?"

"I'd rather be dead without him," Mark said earnestly. "I can't imagine life without Henry."

"You could _easily _live without him. If he died, and you were still alive, that'd be it."

"No, see- I couldn't. I love Henry too much. I can't live without him just like I can't live without you."

"If something happened to me you could just get Julie pregnant again," Alex said indifferently. "Then she'd have someone else and you could start over."

"You look just like me. You're so much like me. You're my boy."

"You fucked Mom. She got pregnant, and I came out a while later. That's all it is. A biological process."

Mark finally couldn't help himself.

"Alex, don't you love me?"

"No."

Mark sat there, staring at his son in shock. It was almost a minute before he could speak. Alex waited calmly, patiently, apathetically.

"Why not?"

"It's not real. It doesn't exist. You're imagining it. And it's a fucking waste of time, even as an idea."

"What do you mean? It's not, it's- it's important!"

"It's dumb."

"You're serious?"

Alex regarded him for a moment. "You look like you want me to cry or something. Or like you're gonna cry."

"You can if you need to, Alex."

"I don't need to."

Mark tried to coax something different out of Alex for several minutes, but he was unmoved every time, and insisted that he didn't love Mark or even Richard. He didn't love Henry, either, which stung; Henry had made all of this possible. Everything Mark had grown up to become was due to him, and Mark, in turn, had helped Henry rise to greater things than he could have done without Mark at his side.

"Do you love Mom?" Alex asked finally.

"No," Mark said. "Listen, girls and women aren't the same as boys and men. They're around because when you get old enough, you need to have sex pretty often to stay healthy. Julie does that for me. Women also exist to breed, so to pass on my genes I need her to have my heirs for me."

"What's it feel like?"

"It feels great. You'll know it the second you try it, Alex."

"Sounds like I'll want to do that a lot."

"Oh, yeah," Mark grinned. "And I don't have to do anything different for nine months while she's gotta change her whole life as it goes along. I can even keep fucking her."

"Okay, Dad," Alex said. "So you've never loved any girls or women, right?"

"They're just toys and tools for me. They meet my needs and give me things I want."

Alex, the brilliant little boy whom Mark was so proud of, who looked identical to Mark when he'd been this age, looked up at his father and said, "That's what everyone else is to me."

"Everyone?"

"You, Uncle Henry, Julie, everyone. That's what you are. Toys and tools, Dad."

"You said you don't love me, but-"

"No, I mean I don't, because it doesn't exist," Alex interrupted. "I _can't_ love anyone, because it's not a real thing. People talk about that stuff so much but I figured out I was smarter a while ago. Love is just a stupid chemical reaction to get people to take care of kids and old people."

"Don't you- doesn't it matter that I love you?"

"Toys and tools. And you'll keep on doing stuff for me no matter what. So it doesn't matter."

"Uh… okay. All right, Alex. Well, I still love you. I always will. And if you ever want or need to talk to me, I'll be there."

"Sure, Dad." Alex paused, finishing off his orange juice. "I still don't love you." He said it matter-of-factly, as if Mark had asked him instead what the color of the sky was, or what taxes were. It was just a simple fact to Alex and he didn't much care what Mark thought about it.

Alex got up. "If you've gotta fuck Mom again, try not to be so loud. You didn't close the door all the way last night. Richard and I saw and heard everything."

"Yeah, man," Mark replied, a little put off. "Um… I'll make sure the door's closed."

"Okay. I'm gonna go do some pushups with Richard in our room." With that, Alex left.

Mark sighed. He was confused, dismayed, and more than a little spooked. He hadn't seen this conversation coming. Explaining sex to Alex, yes, but not at _four_, and the fact that he so bluntly, so easily said he didn't love anyone, not even his father, was… disturbing. Mark had used so many people in his life, disposed of so many, and to this day cheerfully manipulated others to serve his wants and needs. Yet he loved Henry dearly and was overcome with emotion when he thought of Alex, his boy, his heir. Alex didn't feel the same way, apparently. Not at all.

Needing something to distract him, Mark gently closed the door to Julie's bedroom, climbed into bed, and entered Julie and started before she was even awake. She was a little surprised, but quite delighted, and the two of them were busy for nearly an hour. Free to forget about the pills for a long time to come, Mark enjoyed himself immensely. After finishing a fourth session, he showered again, watched as Julie went to go shower and came back glistening and beautiful, then enjoyed some 'personal attention' that he thankfully finished just before someone knocked on the door.

Julie, who had swallowed seconds ago and was still wiping her mouth, blushed furiously and Mark gently waved her into the bathroom. He threw on a pair of boxers and opened the door as the impatient knocking continued.

Out in the hallway, Alex and Richard stood there, identical looks of annoyance on their faces.

"We want food," Richard announced.

"I'm tired of waiting," Alex added.

Mark grinned and scooped the boys up, placing them on his massive shoulders. He effortlessly kept them there as he walked downstairs, then gently set them each at the kitchen table.

"Anything you'd like, guys?" Mark called to the boys as he started getting the pans and utensils out.

"Meat," Richard said. "I want protein."

"Lots of it," Alex said.

"Your wish is my command," Mark acknowledged with a smile.

Julie came downstairs, fully dressed in a new pair of jeans and an emerald green sweater; Mark paused to appreciate the way it all hugged her many lovely curves. She went to Alex and Richard, giving each of them a hug.

"Good morning, Alex. Good morning, Richard."

"Morning, Mom," they chorused, just as Mark and Henry had taught them to do. Mark watched closer than he had ever done before, and sure enough, he noticed a definite indifference to Julie's show of affection. Most people, especially someone as inclined to be optimistic as Julie, would probably never notice. Mark noticed. The boys were cold. And chances were their younger brothers would be, too.

"Mark, you know you own more than underwear," Julie said with a laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I look my best like this," Mark replied, still working at the stove.

"I meant about setting a good example for our boys," Julie mock-whispered.

"When they're my age, I hope they've both got a beautiful fiancée like I do," Mark answered. "I hope they have handsome sons they can get up and cook breakfast for in their underwear."

Julie sighed and kissed Mark again. "Alex, Richard, do you think your Dad's setting a good example for you?"

"Yes, Mom," Richard answered.

"I'm gonna have big muscles like he does when I'm twenty-two," Alex announced. "I like seeing Dad like this so I can know what I'll look like."

"Gotta be getting ready for the babes," Richard commented.

Julie laughed. "You two are just like your fathers. Exactly the same."

"They learned it from the best," Mark said, offering her a roguish smile.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

While Mark and Henry took the boys out for another one of their 'guys-only trips,' their codeword for some special father-son bonding time that Julie was fully supportive of, Julie spent Saturday morning using the pregnancy tests she'd gotten. She sat on the toilet for what seemed like forever, reading result after result, and finally two fists shot up and she cried out in joy.

_We did it! We did it! I'm pregnant!_

Julie was so happy she sprinted into the living room, spun around like a ballerina, then ran back to the bathroom to look at the tests again, whooping in delight as she looked at the positive results. This was better than anything. This was heaven. She knew the boys would be tired when they got back, and that was perfect. Julie was in the mood to do some celebrating and she knew Mark would be, too.

_Of course we conceived on the first try. We succeeded without even knowing it the first time! My second baby!_

Julie called her parents and excitedly told them of her and Mark's decision, and that she was pregnant again. She knew they didn't entirely approve of even one pregnancy before marriage, but they also knew how Julie and Mark felt about each other and understood their decision not to wait. After a final congratulations from Mom and Dad, Julie hung up to hear Mark coming inside, leading the boys upstairs.

"Okay, I'm gonna go see your mother, we'll be here when you guys wake up, okay?"

"Kay."

"Okay, Dad," Alex said, sounding very tired indeed. Julie put on her bathrobe and came out into the hallway to see a sleepy-looking Alex following Mark into the bedroom he shared with Richard. Mark was in there for a minute or two tucking the boys in, and his handsome face lit up in a dazzling smile when he saw Julie waiting for him.

"Mark," Julie said breathlessly, rushing to hug him, kiss him on the lips, throw her arms around his neck. "Mark."

"That's me," Mark laughed softly. "I love you so much."

"Mark," Julie breathed, kissing him again. "Mark-"

"Hey, hey, what's got into you?" Mark said, still laughing but visibly taken aback. "What's- wait, did we do it?"

"We did it. I'm pregnant," Julie told him. "We're gonna have a baby, Mark!"

"That's wonderful!" Mark exclaimed, hugging her. "I knew I could do it. C'mon, let's go talk in the kitchen."

Julie started to tell Mark about the anxious testing, the excited call to her parents, but Mark smoothly pulled her bathrobe up and turned her toward a counter, his hands caressing her ass, her waist, her legs. He put a couple fingers between her legs and Julie gasped. Her body instantly heated up and she moaned a little. Mark was insatiable, and he'd made her almost as hungry as he was.

Mark's belt clinked, and he dropped his pants to his ankles. The auburn-haired 22-year old sighed as he entered her, and Julie gripped the counter edges as he began rocking his hips, picking up speed. The friction was delicious, amazing. She'd never enjoyed anything so much. When Mark came after fifteen heavenly minutes, Julie made a half-grunt, half-groan almost like his. She was hitting her own climax, way up in heaven somewhere, when Mark pulled out and snatched a little plastic cup off the counter. When she could think again, Julie turned around and looked at her fiancée curiously.

"I knew you'd want another look," Mark grinned, waggling his penis at her.

"Another donation?" Julie asked.

"I'm stepping up," Mark explained, taking a cap off the counter and screwing it onto the cup. "Henry and I decided to donate at more places. So I have a whole bag of these little cups and I gotta fill 'em up. All these women out there, Julie. I just hope the donations Henry and I are doing will help."

"They will," Julie promised. "I know they will."

He held out a hand, gently brushed it against Julie's left cheek. She instinctively closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, taking refuge in his comfort, his strength.

"I'll always remember that day at school," Mark murmured.

"I remember," Julie said. "You didn't give up."

"I couldn't. Not on us. You deserved better."

"C'mon," Mark said gently, taking her hand. He stepped out of his pants, leaving them on the floor. "I wanna talk in the living room."

"The boys-"

"-Are asleep," Mark told her. He snickered. "They get pretty tired after these trips; they'll be out for a couple hours. C'mon. Let's go talk. And fill more cups."

Julie smiled. "All right."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Alex and Richard were never actually asleep. They had gotten their rest under the floor of the Glass Library. After pretending to go to sleep to fool Julie, Alex and Richard got up and crept into the kitchen downstairs, then peered out into the living room to watch.

To Alex's amusement, Mark was sitting naked on the couch, all his massive, powerful, suntanned muscle on display, while Julie sat atop his waist, hands on his shoulders, humping him at a steady pace. Alex could see why Mark liked using Julie so much. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, in exceptional shape thanks to Mark's contagious obsession with fitness. Alex studied his father's obvious stamina, endurance, prowess and perfect physical build, eyed his technique and filed it all away.

When he was old enough, Alex would try out the positions he saw Mark use, make his own experiments with different techniques. He would also become more and more of a gym goer, a perfect ladies' man in all appearances. The one thing Alex didn't want to do was date anyone. He despised the idea of wasting time and money to 'earn' his way to something he could just take.

Beside him, Richard was making the same observations, taking his own mental notes. The two boys found it easy to share thoughts, moods, even pain or pleasure seemed to affect one when experienced by the other. Watching Julie ride Mark for ten minutes was enjoyable, but nowhere near as fun, they knew, as it would be to do something like that themselves.

_One shouted word and I could humiliate her_, Alex thought smugly. _She'd never get over it. Dad would just get mad at me and then let it go later, but Julie's too shy. She loves fucking him but she couldn't handle getting 'caught'._

But interrupting Dad while he was having fun using Julie wouldn't be worth annoying him. Alex stayed silent and hidden, then observed as Julie got off and Mark finished into a little plastic cup. Dad was making sperm donations now, evidently, looking to pass on his genes even more.

Alex started to get bored as Julie lay on top of Mark's bulky form on the couch, obviously enjoying the cuddling, while Mark offered her those phony smiles and words, keeping his arms possessively around her smooth, pale belly.

Eventually, as Alex went to leave, Julie climbed off Mark, knelt in front of him, and started giving him head. Mark didn't seem to be acting now; he really got into it, smiling broadly, hands behind his head. Alex made a note to experience all this for himself just as soon as he could. Whenever his body grew old enough, he and Richard would start finding girls to have fun with. There was no point in dating, but Mark and Henry deceived girls and women and used them in other ways. It was those other methods that Alex and Richard would make sure to learn more about.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Going out for dinner for the evening meant seeing Mark at his best; he was always in great spirits and made sure whoever he was with had a wonderful time. The boys enjoyed his good humor immensely, but, the little angels that they were, also listened attentively whenever one of their parents told them something. They seemed to obey Mark instantly, whereas they took a little more time with Julie, but she was probably imagining that.

Having talked about it in the living room- after a few rounds of fun, of course- Mark and Julie had decided to tell the boys about Julie's pregnancy. Mark left it up to Julie as to exactly when in the evening to tell them. The butterflies dancing in Julie's stomach were very happy indeed as Julie looked at her two boys, both of whom had been fathered by their high school superstar dads by accident, and both of whom were being cared for by their fathers as well as anyone could ask. Mark, in a true gesture of love, had made sure Richard found a loving home. And thanks to him being the most masculine guy Julie had ever met, a new addition was on the way.

"Alex, Richard," Julie began, "your father and I have something to tell you."

"Okay," Alex said.

"What is it?" Richard asked.

"We talked about it," Mark said, "and we're going to have another baby. We're pretty sure you're getting a baby brother."

"Hey, that's awesome!" Alex cried, jumping up and running over to hug Mark. "Mom! I'm so happy! When do I get to meet him? This is great!"

"Settle down, sport, it's not for another nine months," Mark told him with a laugh.

"Nine months!" Alex protested, rounding on his mother. "Mom?"

"Yes, Alex?"

"Make my brother come faster. I wanna meet him right now."

"He's still on the way, Alex," Julie told him gently. "It takes a while."

"But Mom," Alex sighed. He hugged her gently, laying his head against her belly. Unbeknownst to him, his little sibling was in there, just beginning to grow. Another product of a love destined to be.

"It'll be okay. He'll be with us soon," Mark assured him.

"I love you guys," Alex said.

"Me, too," Richard added, getting up and hugging his parents.

Mark seemed to have a difficult time with that; Julie was surprised to see him looking at the boys oddly, and asked him about it.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Mark told her. "I just- uh- I never thought- I didn't imagine I'd be here, with all this, four years after high school. It almost doesn't seem real sometimes."

Julie gently took her fiancée's left hand and placed it against her belly. A baby was just coming to life inside, another boy, hopefully, though Julie knew Mark would love a daughter just as much. She smiled at Mark.

"Does _he_ seem real?"

Mark smiled at her. "Yes."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

On Sunday morning, Henry stopped by to see Richard, happy to see his son as always. There was no limit to Henry's love for Richard, just as there wasn't any in his love for Mark. Seeing the way Richard just played at responding to his father's affections made Mark think again about what Alex had said. Finally, after shooing Julie out of the house with a generous donation of money to go grocery shopping, Mark gathered Henry and the boys and sat them all down in the living room.

"What?" Alex demanded, his handsome face sullen.

"Don't _talk_ to your father like that," Henry warned, visibly surprised.

"Dad, Uncle Mark wants to complain 'cause we don't love you guys," Richard explained.

"_What_?" Henry almost yelped.

"Alex and I had a talk Saturday morning," Mark explained, "and he told me all about it. So I wanted to ask both of you, with Henry here: Do you know what love is? Do you love us?"

"No," Alex replied, as if answering an especially stupid child. "I told you already. Love's made up. What's it gonna take?"

"It's all in your head, Uncle Mark," Richard added. "It's not real."

"Mark, what- why wouldn't they love us?" Henry asked, visibly startled. "What's going on?"

"Dad, love's just a chemical reaction so people take care of old people and babies and stuff," Richard explained. "It's stupid. Alex and I are better off than you guys are. We don't waste time on it."

"But- but you're my son," Henry insisted, as if that explained everything. "I love you _because _you're my son."

"And that makes you buy me stuff I want and need," Richard explained patiently. "I don't see what the problem is, Dad. Love isn't real anyway. People just make it up."

"Well, you love Richard, don't you?" Henry asked, turning to Alex.

"No, Uncle Henry."

"Why not? He's your _brother_! Life isn't worth living if I can't have Mark with me. His life matters more to me than mine does."

"See, that's not rational," Alex replied. "You could easily live without my Dad. You don't need him. You just have this weird emotional attachment."

"That's because we love each other," Mark said sternly.

"And it'll make you do something dumb one day, if it hasn't already," Alex told him, not backing down an inch. "You waste all kinds of time and effort on it when you could just do what you're looking to do."

"What's this love stuff feel like anyway?" Richard asked. "Describe it."

"It's warm," Henry said. "I never felt warm like… I mean, I didn't love anyone before I met Mark. I still don't love anyone else. I can't. But when I think of Mark, I- it makes me- I can't say…" Henry blinked furiously and cleared his throat several times. "He's everything to me. He made life worth living for me."

"It's like knowing you mean everything to someone else, and they mean everything to you," Mark said. "I love Henry because he's my brother. Our souls are bonded. He has a piece of mine and I have a piece of his."

"Did you love my mom?" Richard asked.

"No. She was just a whore. I never loved her."

"How about Mom?" Alex demanded, looking at Mark.

"No," Mark said. "I told you that, didn't I? She's not important. No woman is. They're just vessels to serve the needs and wants guys have as they grow up."

"Toys and tools, Dad," Alex said. "That's what this is. That's what you two are to me and Richard."

Henry scoffed, but the cold, relentless stares of the two boys wore him down. All of four and they were flatly rejecting any notion of love for their fathers. It was hard to believe even with it right in front of you. Mark tried one more thing.

"Alex, what would you do if someone- if someone hurt Richard? What if something happened to him?"

"I'd find whoever did it and make them pay," Alex said immediately. "I'd kill them."

"See!" Henry said excitedly. "I'd do the same thing if anyone-"

"Dad," Richard interrupted, visibly exasperated. "We don't mean it like that."

"How can't you love each other?" Mark asked. "How?"

"Easy. We don't."

"But then why would you-"

"Dad," Alex interjected. "Think. You don't love your dick, do you?"

"Well, I- no, not like I love you or Henry."

"But you'd be pretty fucking pissed if someone cut your dick off, right?"

"Yeah."

"So there. I need Richard around because you and Uncle Henry made it so we need to be together. Our souls are bonded, but that doesn't mean I love him. He's just like my right arm or my left leg or my dick. He's part of me and I'm part of him."

"There's nothing to get emotional about," Richard added. "We're not stupid. You guys just got stuck thinking love's real and now you'll probably never get out of it."

"I don't get it," Henry sighed. ""How? Why didn't we- Mark, the boys- what's the matter with-?"

"I'm not sure," Mark said slowly. "They're just… different than we are, I guess."

"Superior," Alex said, his eyes glowing with cold fire. "You guys are weak. We'll take _everything_ from you someday."

"Wait," Mark said, holding up a hand. "What're you _talking_ about, Alex?"

"Easy, Dad," Alex replied. "Someday you and Uncle Henry will stop being young. You'll stop getting stronger and start getting weaker. That's gonna happen no matter what you do."

"And between now and then we'll be getting stronger," Richard continued. "We'll know when it's time. We'll get rid of you and then we'll get everything you ever owned."

"I don't think you know what you're getting into, guys," Mark told them.

"We know," Alex said. "You'll die when we want you to."

"That's gonna be as soon as we're ready to put you down," Richard added, flashing a cold grin.

"You better not fuck it up," Henry warned fiercely. "If you try it and I'm still alive, I won't-"

"-die alone," Richard finished, smiling sweetly at his father. "It's okay, Dad. Don't worry. The day I kill you, Alex is gonna kill Uncle Mark. You both get to die together."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

After seeing the boys to bed, Mark and Henry got into the Excursion and made the drive back to the home they'd lived in for as long as their friendship had existed. As soon as he'd parked in the driveway, Mark pulled out his pack and lighter. He offered the pack to Henry and lit his brother's cigarette for him, then stood beside his sibling in comfortable silence as the wind blew through the trees overhead.

"I never thought I'd hear any of that," Mark said finally. "Not from the boys."

"Me neither," Henry admitted. "They're not kidding, though. They can't love us. It isn't in their nature. And we better be ready, because when they think they're strong enough, they really will try to kill us."

"I just got Julie pregnant again," Mark said fretfully. "My boy's inside her. That's my second son, man! What if he comes out and he just stares at me like Alex did when I- when we talked to him today? How'd they get like this?"

"Maybe it's just how they are," Henry said. "Maybe they- you know where they've been going since they were born. We didn't start until basically middle school. And think about this, Mark: we're passing on our genes after a lifetime going to that house. Maybe it left some kind of genetic imprint on us."

"What, so, you're saying that place fucking messed up my _balls_?"

"They work _fine_, Mark, obviously," Henry said with exaggerated patience. "What I mean is that we never thought about the possible effects of long-term exposure to the Hall. We just didn't think of it. And even if we had, we couldn't have known how it might affect us having kids."

Mark took a long, deep drag on his cigarette, exhaled slowly, and tapped some ash of the end. "Henry, what do you think are the chances my second boy will be just like my first? Like Richard?"

"Almost one hundred percent," Henry replied.

"My sons won't ever love me?" Mark asked, and a terrible, frightening pain gripped his chest suddenly. His voice broke as he said it, and he knew his heart did, too. Fathering his handsome, magnificent, strong, smart, superior son had given Mark a feeling of pride he just couldn't describe. He'd never felt anything like it, and realizing his boys would never love him, could never love him, hurt him badly.

Henry's heavily-muscled arms wrapped around him, and Mark sighed, closing his eyes and laying his head against his brother's rock-hard shoulder. Henry understood. He felt the same pain. It was hard to take it, being so coldly and calmly rejected by your son like that. It had never fit into any of Henry or Mark's plans. They wanted remorseless, vicious, sadistic killers, sure, because the power to take life without hesitation, the power to enjoy doing it, was everything.

But they had simply never imagined that their boys would never love them back, nor had they ever hoped for or wanted such a thing.

"It sucks," Henry said quietly. "I don't like it any more than you do, Mark."

"Why don't they understand what they mean to us? What you and I mean to each other?"

"Love just doesn't exist for them," Henry explained. "Maybe it's genetic, maybe the house did something, maybe both. They just don't know what it is." Henry considered. "They know what we say it is, and how other people around them describe it. They see behaviors they associate with it and analyze them. But they don't feel it themselves, ever. They weren't lying to us, Mark."

"And Marcus is gonna be the same way."

"Yes. If he gets the trips to the Hall like Alex, it's guaranteed. I'm sure of it." Henry paused, hugged Mark again, then let go and re-lit his cigarette. He smiled suddenly, looking sideways at his sibling. "So his name's Marcus?"

"Sure is," Mark decided. "I might've shot him out of my balls the other night but he's my boy, so he's got a name."

"_Wow_, Mark, _that's_ just fuckin' gross."

Mark laughed, swiping at Henry with a blow that would've knocked a lesser man over.

"Well, what's _your _second heir gonna be named, fuckface?" Mark demanded. "What're you gonna call the little twerp? C'mon, gimme some names here."

"Brandon, Cole, Dustin, and Zack all come to mind, dear brother," Henry said with exaggerated courtesy.

"Good names," Mark said approvingly. "You got any favorites, my beloved brother?"

"O Honored Sibling, I'd say I like Brandon the best," Henry replied. "He'll be strong and blond just like his dad. An athlete. That's a man's name."

"That's a name for seventeen-year-old preppy football players at schools that consist almost entirely of white kids," Mark replied.

"Well, that's the plan, pretty much," Henry answered.

"You're an asshole."

"Look who's talking, jerkoff."

"Are you gonna take your second son to the Hall when he's born?" Mark asked, turning back to his earlier thoughts. "What- what if our second sons could love us? What if we're making it so they don't even get the chance?"

"I'd like that, if they could love us," Henry admitted. "But, Mark, here's the thing. If we _don't _take 'em to the Hall- look at how much good it's done for us. For Alex and Richard. Our genes are superior to begin with, sure, but the house has helped a lot and we know that. If we don't take our second sons to Fleetwood Hall from the start, they'll miss out. They won't be as smart, or as strong, or maybe their immune systems won't be as good. Maybe they'll be born with tiny dicks due to some fucked up defect or be allergic to something."

"I don't want any of that for my boys," Mark blurted out, overwhelmed by the fierceness of his worry and his love. "I'm not risking it. I want the boys to be as awesome as they can be."

"And so do I," Henry replied. "We both want the best for our sons, Mark, and we know what's the best thing we can do for them, the one thing that matters most."

"So… if we _really_ love them," Mark concluded slowly, "we'll take them there anyway. Even if it means none of our boys will ever love us."

"We've got to," Henry replied. "I can't think of a single way around it. We want our sons to be as strong and perfect as possible. There's one way to guarantee it and I guess we've found out what the price is. Don't you think it's worth it, though? Would you want anything less than the most you could give the boys?"

"You know how I feel about them," Mark answered. "You know what they mean to me, Henry."

"Then we have the answer."

Mark sighed. "What about- the other stuff? Them wanting to kill us one day?"

"I think that's fair," Henry said, shrugging his massive shoulders. "Sure, Richard's gonna be sorry if he and Alex try to kill either of us and fail. But I don't think they'll try it until they know they can pull it off."

"You said you wanted us to die before we start to get old and weak," Mark said, thinking back to senior year. "We're not gonna live really long lives anyway."

"Yeah. Exactly." Henry blew some more smoke into the cold night air. "So why not have the boys succeed us by finishing us off themselves? Nobody else could ever kill us, Mark. Only someone from our genes could ever be that strong."

"That's true." Mark shook his head. "It's a strange world sometimes, Henry."

"Yeah. But Mark, would you go back? Really. Would you wanna be the little bitch you were when we met?" The sly smile on Henry's pale face said he already knew his answer.

"Never," Mark said firmly. "There was nothing before. I was always your brother. We just got started a little late because fate or something tried fucking us over."

"Tried," Henry told him. He grinned at Mark, adding, "Didn't work, did it?"

"No," Mark replied. "Okay. It's fuckin' cold out here. Let's talk some more inside. We can hang out in my room."

"Sure thing, Mark," Henry replied pleasantly.

"Just _please_ wait until you're actually going to bed to get naked," Mark said. "I still remember the first time you told me and I saw those clothes folded at the end of your bed."

"Yeah," Henry laughed, "I remember, too. I remember how you got scared and grossed out like some little girl."

Mark swung at his brother with a fist that could've broken bones on lesser humans, but Henry just ducked, using his superhuman reflexes to time it at the last possible second. Mark tried to look angry but soon gave it up and hugged Henry instead.

"Let's go inside, Henry."

"Okay, Mark," Henry replied. "Let's start planning your wedding, huh?" He laughed. "I can't believe how much Julie's bought into these romantic fantasies you've fed her."

"Well, I learned from the best," Mark commented. Just as Henry started to say something, looking pleased and touched, Mark added, "Learned from the best and surpassed him when I was twelve," Mark said, dodging a kick from Henry. He grinned. "It's all been downhill for that Henry guy ever since, man. It's really sad, not gonna lie."

Henry mock-lunged at him this time, but Mark dodged again and jogged on up the front walk to the house. He and Henry entered the darkened house and went upstairs to Mark's room, where they stayed up for hours planning details of the wedding and the addition of two new boys into their lives.

It was all great fun. Mark hated having to marry Julie, but as for the rest of it, even the boys' inability to ever love their fathers… Mark wouldn't have had it any other way. He'd never felt so happy in his life. Every day was better than the last, the future was bright, and someday, when his life ended, he'd go out beside Henry. There was nothing else Mark wanted in life; nothing at all.

* * *

**A/N: 5-3-2020.**

**Thanks to the fact that I wrote the majority of Chapter 4 before even starting on Chapter 3, the fourth chapter of this story has been completed quickly! Years of writing these characters and developing this story have definitely helped, too. You get to know the characters almost as if you really know them- although Henry and Mark would be unpleasant or dangerous for most people to be around in real life.**

**AM83220, Egalatarian Helper, phorosz, and fear2breathe all deserve recognition here. They're all great reviewers and loyal fans of this obscure film from 1993, and I am grateful to have earned their high praise and been able to interact with each of them. It's a small fandom here but a pretty faithful one, as I've observed before.**

**Julie is has long since been sold on a lie and is lost in her own fantasy. Mark cannot love her and has been manipulating her from the beginning, but he's extremely good at it. The only signs he doesn't really love her/isn't as perfect as she thinks are his pushiness about certain things, like the way he'll just demand sexual favors whenever he wants them from her and expects obedience, his way of casually assuming he runs everything in what is still her house, and his refusal over the years to even pretend to give up casual sex in order to be loyal to her when he's away from Portland. Things like that. But Julie just never sees any of the indications for what they are, or else ascribes them to her romantic imagining of his domineering, over-masculine nature.**

**Lots of others have obviously been fooled, too. Chamberlain High School had a serious bullying problem before Henry and Mark showed up and they only exaggerated it and made it worse, brainwashing entire generations of impressionable young athletes that winning is everything and that the physically strong have a mission to oppress and torment the weak. Boys in particular can easily draw the conclusion that the lessons they're taught about being bold and aggressive on the field will mean more winning and success elsewhere in their lives, leading them to become bullies as they mock and look down on anyone who isn't athletically talented or as well-off as they are in the event their family has money.**

**The setup Henry and Mark left for the hockey and football teams has the makings of a cult for sure. The boys who join are cruelly and fiercely brutalized for an entire year, must endure anything the upperclassmen subject them to, and, increasingly, must alight with Nazi racial ideals and beliefs. Henry and Mark didn't explicitly forbid Jews from joining when they were on the teams, for instance, but their hand-picked successors and proteges perceived that imposing Neo-Nazi ideology would please Henry and Mark, and indeed it did. The boys on the teams thus get taught that the Nazis "weren't that bad" and that they were in fact actually pretty cool.**

**Henry and Mark are still a long way from their eventual fall from grace, but they're planning to live short lives anyway. The original change that made Mark what he is was in 1993, now 10 years in the past. The original, true Mark Evans would be distraught and horrified by what he has become alongside Henry, of course, but this altered Mark shares in Henry's sadism and cold disregard for others.**

**Notice how Alex and Richard don't actually think of Julie as "Mom" or refer to her as such when alone with their dads; they've been taught from the beginning to merely pretend with her, that the only real parental authority they need to pay attention to is Henry and Mark's. They have no actual interest in or respect for Julie and Alex is not at all moved by the fact that she's his mother and genuinely loves him. After all, he doesn't care that Mark loves him, so Julie's love means even less.**

**I plan on writing two chapters set in 2004, one depicting Mark's (reluctant) marriage to Julie, and the other depicting her giving birth to Mark's second son and the newly-married couple also adopting Henry's second son. There's no need for Henry to get married at this point, as Mark is handling the key need to keep their four boys under one roof.**

**My thanks to Egalatarian Helper and AM83220 for their reviews.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

**A/N: Bit of a Greek mythology reference in this chapter, so I'm editing in an explanation for that. Atalanta (/ˌætəˈlæntə/; Greek: Ἀταλάντη Atalantē) is a character in Greek mythology, the daughter of Iasus and Minyas. She is described as a virgin huntress unwilling to marry, and loved by the hero Meleager. Notably she is also mentioned as a fierce, strong and energetic person, blond and highly athletic.**

* * *

Henry and his brother Mark might have disappointed Premiere by declining their repeated offers to go into a career in modeling, but that didn't mean they hadn't been interested. Starting the summer after senior year, Henry and Mark had begun making periodic trips to New York City to appear in one photo shoot or another.

It had gone so well that the agency agreed to sign the two of them on as regulars while allowing them to maintain a part-time schedule that Henry and Mark would dictate. Premiere could call, but Henry and Mark chose freely whether or not to answer.

That said, Henry and Mark's drive down to New York City in early December was hardly their first trip down for this year. They both enjoyed it, liked the endless flattery and attention, liked the chance to awe people in their underwear, going out to the worst parts of NYC and killing somebody here and there…

"-this time?"

"Huh?" Henry asked, glancing over at Mark from the passenger's seat.

Mark sighed and put the pedal down a little more, sending the Excursion a solid ten over the speed limit. "I said, you think we're gonna find some chicks to fuck this time?"

"Mark, you're engaged," Henry said with mock reproach. "You need to be _faithful_."

That set Mark off like few things could; the idea of being true to anyone but Henry had struck Mark as utterly hilarious ever since he'd changed way back in 1993. It had been ten years since that wonderful day, and Mark had cheated on every girl, every woman he'd ever involved himself with.

Julie even knew it, too. Mark had openly dated and slept with another girl after breaking up with Amy Philips in senior year, citing social expectations. He'd slept with other women during four years at the Naval Academy, citing his male needs. Over the years Julie had been alternately charmed and bullied into accepting that Mark would never stop sleeping with other women, which was good, because Mark would never have accepted anything else.

"Okay, seriously," Mark said, giggling still, "what're we gonna do?"

"See who's at Premiere today," Henry answered. "Check 'em out and start chatting with the ones we like. Mark, it's not like this is new to us."

"Yeah, I mean, I was just thinking about you."

"Me? I'm flattered."

Mark reached over and whacked Henry in the chest. He thumped Mark on his right shoulder in response and after that the siblings were even.

"I meant you and your _future_," Mark insisted. "I got Julie pregnant back on Halloween. Who're you gonna have your second boy with? Lisa can't do it for you. She's still 'missing.'"

"Fuck, that bitch was such a slut," Henry burst out. "She fucked Paul, she fucked Jason, she fucked Tony, she _would've_ fucked Chris if I hadn't started dating her instead, I mean- she opened her legs for any guy with some nice muscles and money."

"She was pretty fucking hot. She was gorgeous," Mark recalled.

"She was," Henry admitted. "I never got tired of looking at her. Ever. But I wasn't gonna marry her and that's what she wanted."

"If you had, your whore would be pregnant again and I'd have offed Julie instead."

"Oh, is that on the agenda?" Henry asked, fiddling with his lighter.

"Nah, we need her for now," Mark replied. "Honestly, the boys will probably get around to it. Once they've taken over for us, I'm sure they'll get tired of her eventually. Better talk to 'em about it sometime."

"Not a bad idea."

"So you need another boy," Mark said. "Who's gonna have him? You gotta find somebody, Henry, and she's gotta carry the kid until she pops him out."

"I know, I know," Henry fussed. "Well, maybe I'll find someone at the shoot today. Feed her all the right bullshit and she might go for it."

"It can't be just anybody."

"Well, I know th-"

"No, no, I mean- she needs to be a 12 out of 10," Mark insisted. "Lisa was hot. Your next one needs to be _insanely_ hot. And blonde. Gotta be a blonde, man."

Henry laughed, smiling fondly at his brother. "How are you so sure of all that?"

"Because it's what you're gonna do," Mark replied. "You're Henry Evans. You like white girls, you like 'em blond, and the hotter the better. You really want your next boy coming out of anything less?"

"No," Henry said instantly.

"Then I'm right. That's what you're gonna do."

"Of course that's what I'm gonna do."

"Meaning I'm right. And what's taking so long, anyway? You're getting plenty, just step up and find someone really damn hot and have a little 'accident.'"

"Oh, you've had enough accidents for both of us, Mark."

"I hate you!" Mark exclaimed, punching with attempted anger at Henry, who ducked and dodged as Mark weaved all over the lane.

"Mark, knock it off," Henry laughed. "Come on, stop, we're gonna die!"

"_It'll be worth it_ if I don't have to listen to your smart ass!"

"My ass is gorgeous!" Henry exclaimed, still laughing. "You know how much lifting I do to keep it that way?"

"Fuck," Mark grumbled, giving up and returning to the task of driving. "I hate you."

"Funny thing to say to somebody who saved you ten years ago."

"Yeah," Mark grunted, "from my dorky little loser self."

"Can you imagine how the old you would've reacted if I'd told you we'd be doing all this fun stuff in ten years?"

"Man, that's never who I was," Mark said. "Fuck that kid. He's gone and good fucking riddance."

"Can't wait to take my shirt off and have people start gawking at me," Henry enthused.

"Me, neither," Mark admitted. "That shit never gets old."

"Never."

"Just promise me you'll really look at the women today," Mark said, glancing over at his brother. "You're more than man enough to get a chick pregnant on the first try. You just have to pick the right one."

"I will, Mark. Don't worry."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Henry and Mark both turned on the charm when they went in to see Tyler, who after so many years and so many successful shoots insisted on addressing and referring to them as friends. He was handsome, well-muscled, charming- another Tony Summers, in many ways. And that meant Henry and Mark had gotten him under their thumb easily, just as they had with Tony.

"Hey, guys," Tyler called out as he left his office to meet them. "Thanks for coming."

"Always up for another shoot," Henry said pompously. "So what've you got for us?"

"Series of fitness shoots," Tyler replied. "Compression shorts for you guys, those plus some new sports bras for marketing to the ladies-"

"Just to be clear," Mark broke in, "we're not being asked to model sports bras and women's compression shorts or anything?"

"Jeez, hell, no!" Tyler laughed. "But you will be covering Nike, Adidas and Under Armour all today, so we'll need you here a while."

"We've got time," Henry assured him. "Any of those female models single?"

"A few," Tyler grinned. "I'll leave that up to you."

"Someone's gotta show 'em what a real man's like," Mark added with a grin of his own.

"You'll be in Studio A1," Tyler advised them. "Some shots will be with you two, some you'll be paired up with some of the female models. It's a big athletics get-together today, so, have fun talking gym stuff with all the models."

"We will," Henry said confidently. And why not? It had always happened before.

The female models were always the best-looking ones, naturally, but Premiere employed some attractive photographers, support staff, interns… Henry's favorite was arranging a one-night-stand with some scared, pretty little college intern and just fucking her until the room felt like a sauna. It never got old and never would.

"Now, you guys know the rest of the arrangement," Tyler went on. "We'll be depositing your cut directly after the photographers get their work done."

"Which is?" Mark asked.

"About a week, like usual," Tyler answered. "Maybe a little less. Lot of sports magazines looking to pick up stuff from this shoot, and I've made sure they know all about you."

"I wanna know all about the ladies you've got modeling today," Henry said casually. "You said some of 'em are single?"

"Sure," Tyler answered. He lowered his voice. "Just don't go fucking 'em in the studios anymore. Get to that when the day's over."

"Listen, Tyler," Mark said, "you had a perfectly good bed in Studio A10, there were a couple of Swedish girls and we were bored."

Tyler tried to look irritated, but after only a moment he laughed. "Okay. All right. Well, if you've gotta, just let me know where you used, so I can get the cleaning people in there, all right?"

"That's the Tyler I'm buddies with," Mark lied smoothly, grinning and shaking hands.

"Your people will love the shots you'll get from today," Henry promised. "Don't you forget it."

"I never do," Tyler answered. "Have fun, guys."

"Always," Henry replied smugly, looking forward to it already.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Henry and Mark had picked up a habit after senior year where they never did much of their changing in any actual changing rooms; instead, they stripped and put on whatever they were supposed to right there in the studio, and their VIP status meant that nobody was in much of a position to stop them. Granted, so many young women worked in the studios, Henry and Mark were certain the view was appreciated.

After undressing, Henry stood up and caught a pretty young photographer staring at him, clearly awed. He smiled and winked, and she blushed furiously and hurried off.

"Could probably get some easy pussy that way," Mark observed, folding up his clothes nearby.

"Yeah," Henry nodded. "But I'd rather ha…"

"What?" Mark asked in confusion. "Why'd you-"

Mark stopped mid-sentence for the same reason Henry had trailed off. Over on the other side of the studio, photographers were setting up with a tall, extremely fit young woman with flowing, golden blonde hair. She stood confidently in compressed running shorts and a sports bra, all black, bearing the Nike logo. She wasn't just beautiful. She was the most stunning, breathtaking thing Henry had ever seen.

Her, Henry thought instantly. It has to be her.

"Go get her, tiger," Mark snickered, reading his sibling's thoughts perfectly.

"Fuck off," Henry said faintly, not taking his eyes off Atalanta for a second.

"I bet she can suck a mean cock, too," Mark added.

"Shut up."

"Oh, man, I think Henry's in L-O-V-E-"

Henry whacked Mark across his broad chest. The loud smacking sound turned a couple of heads, and the beauty, with her spectacular Nordic features, briefly glanced in the direction of the sound. Henry, stark naked in front of the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen in his life, gave her a warm smile.

After a moment, she smiled back.

"I'm gonna go find out what her name is," Henry announced.

"Ooh, Henry wants to go talk to a girl," Mark snickered.

"All right, smartass, you just wait here."

Mark snickered again as Henry left, but he watched with interest as Henry confidently approached the young blonde and began chatting her up, a friendly look on his face. She seemed plenty receptive, which was normal. No one, after all, ever said no to Henry. If a woman Henry wanted had found him undesirable, Mark would have eagerly helped Henry make her pay for it, so long as Henry shared during the rape. Which, being a good brother, Henry always did.

After around five or six minutes, Henry came back, smirking at his brother. "Her name's Gwen Larsson."

"See? All you needed was me making fun of you."

"I hate you."

"Now you know how I felt when you were being a little shithead earlier."

"Not my fault you don't appreciate humor."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Much to his frustration, Henry didn't get a chance to speak to Atalanta again for nearly an hour. Sure, her real name was Gwen, but one look at that absolute confidence, cheerfulness and incredible athletic build and golden blonde hair, and it was obvious what nickname she'd been meant for.

Henry and Mark were kept busy taking up all manner of striking, supremely confident poses in boxers, briefs, compression shorts, running shorts, basketball shorts- on and on it went. Much as he loved the attention and the near-open worship of his magnificent physique, Henry kept turning his head toward Atalanta, yearning to just talk to her, to turn on the old Henry charm and get something started. He wanted her pregnant. He wanted her tonight. He couldn't stand to even think about waiting thirty seconds longer than he had to.

The photo shoots went perfectly as they always did, and Henry and Mark were smug in the knowledge that they would be paid well for their extensive circulation, as they always were. The magazines had snapped up their first shoots after high school, gone after them even more in college. As long as they were young and strong, Henry and Mark would be among Premiere's stars.

_For the rest of our lives, then,_ Henry thought, _since we'll never waste any time getting old. The boys will finish us off before we can start._

Primal lusts and urges surged back to the forefront of Henry's mind as he looked back at Atalanta. Time stopped. She was naked, undressing between one shoot or another, it seemed. Her body… her looks… Henry remembered Lisa's beauty, which he'd admired, but this woman… she had even more of Lisa's beauty and none of her weakness. Lisa had spurned athletics and only begrudgingly interested herself in fitness. This woman looked like a far more beautiful Lisa who had been born to rule a clan of Vikings.

Well-muscled and confident; strong in body and strong in spirit. Every inch of her was sensual, toned, buff, carrying hints of a few trips to the tropics to earn a better suntan. Henry stared and couldn't help that he was staring. He'd never been attracted like this, ever, to anyone he'd ever had before. Henry had slept with so many women, yet this one… this one he just had to have.

She caught his eyes just then, and her graceful features carried hints of amusement. Henry could have sworn he glimpsed a smile. Like she knew what effect she was having. Like she was playing with him.

And he loved it.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

They were both dressed in their athletic underwear after the first series of shoots completed and everybody went for lunch, and Henry walked right over, confident as hell, sure of himself like no one else on Earth, no one else but Mark. It was his first time meeting a woman with both of them barely dressed, but he found it rather fun. He liked it this way. It was just one step short of the way he _really_ wanted to meet a woman he liked- naked, grunting, sweating, fucking like animals. They could flirt and exchange names after they were done.

Concealing his real thoughts behind a charming, outgoing smile, Henry laned on a wheeled dresser as she picked her Nike water bottle up and drank from it, admiring even her grace and strength in doing that, the way her well-sculpted muscles rippled like water under her pale, smooth skin.

"Nice work on that shoot this morning," Henry said to her. "I'm Henry. Maybe you saw me and my brother earlier?"

"Yeah," she answered casually. "Did you forget your clothes?"

"Only when I want to," Henry said with a wink. She laughed, clearly liking him already. That was good.

"So how'd they get you over here?" she asked. "I was running track and playing soccer in high school and they came to do our team pictures. I got an offer to do sports and fitness wear and now, God, I swear this is all I do. I do this more than actually play sports or lift weights or whatever." She sighed. "Seriously, how'd they get you into this?"

"Same story, basically," Henry commiserated. "They showed up to do team photos, they kept talking to me and my brother, finally we said, fine, we'll show up. They barely left us alone for five minutes the summer after senior year, I swear. We're not here full-time but it's not because they don't try."

"What do you do full-time?"

"I'm a Marine," Henry said, puffing his chest out as he said it. Not because he really gave a damn about the title, but because he knew others would, especially fitness nuts.

Sure enough, she gave him a once-over all anew, noting his powerful build in another way. "I can see it," she said.

"So can I," Henry told her. "I mean, that's part of why I was looking at you so much. I kept thinking you had to be in the Marines. It's obvious how fit you are."

"Oh, so _that's_ what that was about," she said with apparent interest. "Any other reason?"

"Sure."

"Like?"

"I liked what I saw. And, uh, feel free to stare at me anytime. I'm used to it."

She laughed again. "Tyler keeps finding cocky jocks like you. And you all keep coming in here, taking your clothes off, coming over to flirt with me, trying to get me to wanna fuck you."

Henry paused, considering this. "Does that ever work?"

"Yes," she said, eying Henry appreciatively. "Sometimes."

Then she was gone, headed out to lunch, hips swaying, ass looking like a wonder of the modern world. Henry stared, awe-struck, wondering why he couldn't have met somebody like this in high school. He would've lived between her legs all four years.

"She's as bad as _you_ are!" Mark exclaimed.

"Oh, really?" Henry asked casually.

"You- have you _seen_ her?" Mark demanded. "Have you _seen_ the two of you? You spent the _whole morning_ eye-fucking each other."

"Mark, about the lousiest place to fuck a person is in the eyes," Henry answered. "You can't go in very far, she'll never stop whining about it-"

"You know what I mean!" Mark snapped irritably. When he saw Henry starting to laugh, he tried to glower but didn't quite make it. "I hate you," he added, still wanting to appear angry with Henry.

"She's a total gym rat," Henry said. "She's all about confidence and power and fucking the people she wants to. She'd be the perfect huntress if this was a couple hundred years back. She's Atalanta without the virginity."

"Oh, very nice," Mark replied sarcastically. "So, are the two of you gonna bone before shooting wraps up or after?"

"After, Mark. Definitely after."

Mark lowered his voice. "You've found the next one. I can tell. I can see it."

"Sure have, Mark. It has to be her. It's gotta be her." Henry's pulse quickened and he felt a surge of hunger, a kind that had nothing to do with food. "Yeah. Her. I want her."

"You'll have her," Mark said with supreme confidence, "No one ever says no to Henry Evans."

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Before leaving for a protein-heavy lunch, Henry and Mark sent a few text messages to Tyler. They exchanged a few more with him while they ate, and by the time they got back the arrangements were all made. The sportswear shoots wrapped up by the early afternoon, and in a last-minute change of schedule, some nude modeling was put on the docket instead.

And Henry and Mark had been specifically and adamantly requested for it. Entirely by coincidence- entirely- Gwen Larsson had her schedule changed, too, and the result was that she and Henry spent almost the whole afternoon naked in the studio, striking various sensual, evocative poses, and throwing virtually-endless glances at each other

Mark watched the whole thing with growing amusement, interest, even fascination. Those two were ego-maniacal gym rats to the core, both flexing their many toned muscles impressively for the other's benefit whenever they could, stealing looks at the other as long as they could. They spent a lot of time trying to be sneaky about it or pretending not to notice what the other was doing, but eventually gave that up as the afternoon went on.

This was the crudest, most obvious flirting Mark had ever seen. He'd seduced dozens of girls and women since 9th grade, raped his share of them, too, and he'd still never seen anything like this. Gwen was like a female Henry, at least in terms of the cockiness, the obvious inner and outer strength, and the stunning good looks.

Mark wanted her bad, but watching the way she and Henry kept swapping those glances, the way they kept insinuating things when they talked or competitively arguing over who could run faster, lift more, fight better, Mark had to admit that Gwen wasn't meant to be his trophy. She was meant to be Henry's.

So it wasn't any great surprise to him when Henry, still naked, immediately went over to Gwen at the end of the day's shooting and spent a good ten minutes chatting her up. The blond couple then dressed, and Henry came over just as Mark was making final arrangements in his little talk with a scared intern, just barely out of high school. She was terribly nervous around his unbelievable muscle and good looks, and probably a virgin, too, but Mark enjoyed that.

"Hey, man."

Turning away from the intern, who had just agreed to spend the night with Mark at the Waldorf-Astoria with open awe in her eyes, Mark smiled at his brother. The intern hurried off, looking overwhelmed by the towering, heavily-muscled young men standing so close to her.

"Hey. So, can I guess what you and Gwen have planned?"

"Sure."

"You're gonna go to her place."

"Uh-huh."

"And you're going to fuck. A lot."

"Uh-huh."

"And you, Henry, are going to make a 'mistake' because you never wear condoms."

"I'm too big for them."

"They make them pretty fucking big these days, Henry."

"So what?"

"So, enjoy Gwen tonight," Mark said encouragingly. "Tell me every detail tomorrow. I mean it. Everything."

"As long as I hear all about you and Little Miss Virginity over there," Henry snickered. "Gwen's… oh, man, she's _perfect_, Mark. I can't stand it. She's too much. She's perfect. I haven't even fucked her yet and she's gonna be the best I ever had. I know it."

"Fuck, Henry, you sound like you're in love."

"I'm just looking forward to it."

"Sure thing, man." Mark grinned. "Have fun making another boy tonight."

"It's going to be awesome," Henry said. "Better than anyone else I fucked. Even Lisa."

"You got a plan for keeping a professional fitness model pregnant, by the way?" Mark asked. "She's a total career chick, anybody could tell."

"Yeah. I'll go to Tyler with her, insist she's beautiful no matter how far along the baby is, and remind him fitness matters whether you're pregnant or not, male or female." Henry smiled. "I think I'll even star in some shoots with her, you know, me behind her, holding her belly and shit. She'll think it's about her. I'll be thinking about my boy."

"I like it," Mark said approvingly.

"Hey, Henry!" Gwen called from across the studio. "Stop flirting with your brother and let's go!"

"Enjoy," Mark said one more time.

"Oh, I will," Henry replied, a hungry look in his eyes.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Gwen Larsson had expected Tyler would find another cocky, obnoxious jock sooner or later, and she'd been right, as she so often was. The worst were the high school boys, all teen ego and testosterone. Only in her early twenties herself, Gwen had been impressed enough with a few that they'd gotten what they all hoped for when they saw her. Not many had been ready for how intense Gwen wanted things, though, and so most of the 18-year-olds were one-night-stands only.

The college guys were better, but Gwen had exceptionally high standards for them, too. Just like the high school guys, they had to be extremely fit, regardless of their exact build, and they had to be supremely confident, even arrogant. They had to be athletic as a way of life, devoted to everything fitness could bring. They also had to be ready for her brash way of flirting with guys she actually liked, and be ready to offer that in return.

Having heard about the Evans brothers over the years, having seen many posters and magazine pages devoted to showing off their awesome physiques, Gwen had hoped one of them would sooner or later be at Premiere for a shoot on the same day as her. The day had worked out very nicely, and the night was going to be much, much better.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

The evening had started with Gwen and Henry arguing over where and when to start. Henry, surprisingly, was strictly devoted to fucking only in fine beds, whereas Gwen enjoyed the fun and even the exercise opportunities of trying out just about any spot at all. They had argued while making out quite pleasurably by the door, but Gwen had dealt with guys like him before, so pampered and vain they were almost fussier than women were supposed to be.

Gwen had considered talking it out more, but eager as she was for the fun to start, she had decided to cheat. One lengthy blowjob later, Henry had been glad to do most anything she asked for the next half-hour. She had him on the kitchen floor, on the couch, on the carpeted floor next to the couch. And Henry just kept on smiling the whole time, just like she was.

When they finally did go upstairs, Henry and Gwen both vied for dominance. Both of them were used to getting their way, used to being in charge. Gwen rode Henry for one round, but right after that he put his head between her legs, using the same trick she'd used on him. It worked, and Gwen got action she'd never dreamed of, plain old missionary style, again and again.

Henry wasn't just extraordinarily hot, or fit, or muscular. He was better than any guy she'd ever had. It was like a guy had been made somewhere to be literally perfect, not one flaw or weakness. The sweatier Gwen and Henry got together, the more Gwen was convinced Henry was him.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Henry lay on the damp sheets of the king-size bed, one hand behind his head, balls aching pleasantly as he texted Mark about the evening. True to his usual style, Henry hadn't worn a condom once. He'd never put one on in his life, never even tried. To go to such inconvenience, to compromise his own pleasure for the sake of some disposable toy… Henry couldn't comprehend it.

The evening with Gwen had been exhausting. Henry had thought nothing would ever top Prom Night with Lisa, but the fierce competition between him and Gwen had done that easily. Henry had run his hands over every inch of Gwen, caressed her with his closest imitation to real love. And in a way, he was in love; Gwen's body was a thousand times better than Lisa's. Henry's senior year trophy had been a delicate princess with minimal interest in athletics. Gwen lived for it, and it made her almost as arrogant and pushy as Henry was. He'd been so sure he only wanted submissiveness for so long, but this…

It was better. Much better. Gwen was strong, confident, afraid of nothing, and mind-shattering in bed. Henry needed every ounce of his immense strength, prowess and stamina to match her, something he'd never experienced before. Henry had taken up plenty of male-dominant positions tonight, but Gwen had wanted him to every time. When he'd resisted her wanting to take charge, she'd wrestled with him, fought him, made Henry so intrigued that in the end she won out more often than not.

Gwen's going to give birth to my strongest son, Henry realized suddenly. We're both so powerful. We clearly have superior genes. Hers aren't as good as mine, obviously, but they're good enough that Brandon's going to be damn strong.

Henry hadn't forgotten his real goal, of course; having another son was vital to his and Mark's plans for the future. Their ever-growing number of sperm donations wasn't meant to make up for raising their own heirs, and two boys each had been agreed upon. Brandon's mother was an amazing, breathtaking woman in every way possible, though, and Henry wondered briefly if he would have been falling in love with her right now, if he were capable of it.

In the bathroom, Gwen was singing something to herself. Henry had showered first, and now that she'd taken her turn, even catching glimpses of her through the open doorway was intoxicating.

_I oughta go in there. Show her some fun like I did with Lisa._

With that idea now dominating his thoughts, Henry set his phone down, stretched, and headed for the bathroom.

"Hey," Gwen said over her shoulder.

"Hey, yourself," Henry said with one of his charming, brilliant smiles. He drew close, put his arms around her, put his groin so he brushed up against her ass, his intentions clear. Just as Henry was going to position himself, expecting her to grip the edges of the sink and get ready like so many of his other partners did, Gwen ducked out of his embrace, turned, somehow shoved Henry hard enough that he crashed to the tiled floor, then planted a foot on his chest and stood over him, looking amused.

"Damn, what the fuck?" Henry demanded, getting angry. "I was just-"

"-trying to get some," Gwen said with a grin, crouching so she straddled his waist. She sat down, sliding him into her. She started humping him, grinning at him. "Well, it's my turn."

"Bullshit," Henry blustered. His ego under attack, his mind demanded that he get up and resist, but Gwen began shifting her hips around with astounding dexterity. Left, right, forward, back, these semi-circles that made Henry's eyes roll back in his head.. then she was humping him again, her ass slapping against his groin, making the pleasure of all his previous trophy girls look like nothing.

Putting her hands possessively on his chest, one palm to each pectoral, Gwen leaned down and kissed Henry, humping him harder still, faster than ever. This was better than anything Henry had ever experienced. The best he'd had in his entire life.

_This._

_Is._

_Perfect._

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

January 2004

After two hours at the gym on Saturday, Gwen was moving right along with her fitness goals for January and for the new year. It was hard to believe it was the 17th, but things moved pretty fast like that sometimes.

Merging her insatiable passion for fitness and her love of the limelight into a career as a fitness model had been the best decision of Gwen's life. Deciding to develop probably the ultimate taste in guys was another. After a long string of fun one night stands, weekends, and month-or-three-long affairs, Gwen had finally caught the perfect guy and let him go after a week of the most breathtaking sex she'd ever had.

The plan hadn't started out that way. It had been "Fuck him for one night" and then she'd stopped Henry at the door in the morning with a simple "Stay for the weekend." Then they'd both wanted even more time, so Henry had stayed for a week. All the while they appeared for hours of shooting at Premiere. Henry and his brother Mark being around the studio for so much longer had surprised and delighted Premiere's management, and Gwen had been quietly paid a generous bonus for her role in that.

Sitting at a booth at her favorite bar with Christie and Janice, her two best friends and gym partners, Gwen delightedly recounted her latest steamy night with Henry. He'd driven all the way down from Maine for another day alongside Mark, flirted with her all day, then kept her awake almost the whole night without either of them pausing for more than a few minutes.

"It's not just how big he is," Gwen sighed, smiling at the memories of him, the many, many memories. "It's what he does with it. He fucks like he started a porn career in high school. He probably first had sex in 6th grade."

"You seriously think he's actually that long?" Christie asked over a beer. "No exaggeration this time?"

"None," Gwen said firmly. "Hey, and since when did I exaggerate?"

"You like to make men out of little college boys," Janice snickered. "Boys aren't always fully grown yet, you know?"

Gwen laughed. "Shut up. Seriously, Henry's the ultimate hunk. He's got everything. Rock-hard muscle head to toe. He never gets boring. He's always got something new."

"Doesn't he make you sore at all?" Christie asked. "If he is that big… I mean, I've had some regrets about guys like that."

"Trust me, Christie, you've never fucked a guy like Henry," Gwen said. "He knows positions you've never heard of. And he's amazing at the classics."

"How does Friday compare to the other… visits?"

"Better than ever," Gwen sighed. "I'm starting to think this is gonna get serious. We can't stop. We have to get together again, and when we do, all we do is fuck. We can't get enough of it."

"I mean, do you even talk to each other?" Janice asked, laughing as she said it.

"He's a Marine, Janice, and he was a superstar in high school with football and hockey," Gwen responded. "He goes to the gym so much he basically lives there. He's really kind after we have fun for the evening. He likes to talk and he's a great listener."

"But does he like to talk about what you wanna talk about, or just the usual guy stuff?"

"Both. He's fine with it either way, he says, and talking after we're done helps us both relax."

"Sounds like a great catch."

"He is."

"Has he been wearing condoms all these times?" Christie asked.

"I told you he never wears them," Gwen said. "He says they don't make 'em big enough for him."

"Are you sure that's not just his ego talking, Gwen?"

"He's huge, Christie. Any other guy I'd probably think you could be right, but Henry might actually be serious."

"Just be careful, Gwen, okay? You've had him over a lot for a month now."

"I'm always careful," Gwen said, more defensively than she'd intended.

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

After unwinding for a while longer at the bar, Gwen finally drove home and took a shower, doing her best to forget Christie's words of caution all the while. She was by far the most cavalier out of the three of them when it came to guys and sex, and while that meant she also had the most exciting stories and experiences much of the time, there was always a certain risk…

Gwen ran the conditioner through her hair again, smiling as she remembered bracing herself between the tiled wall and the glass sliding door the last time Henry had been here. The water running just like this, steaming up the room, his groin slapping against her ass over and over, that deep, manly grunt he made when he came...

The only thing better than Henry during sex was Henry afterward. He'd gently drawn her into his arms, pulled her to his chest as the water poured down on both of them, and just held her, leaving the best things unspoken. He was so strong, so relentless and pushy, but also so kind, so gentle. Gwen had been seeing him for a month and she hadn't found a thing she disliked about him yet.

_But what about Christie?_

_Goddamn it. I'm fine, I've been careful,_ Gwen thought with a rush of irritation at the interruption of one of her most sensual memories. _I've always been careful._

When she turned off the water and dried herself off, Gwen couldn't quite shake the idea, that nagging doubt. She was late on her period and she hadn't told Janice or Christie that. They hadn't thought to ask, and she hadn't volunteered the information.

With an exasperated sigh, Gwen went to the sink and got out one of her pregnancy tests. She set it next to the toilet, then got out her phone and sent a few flirtatious texts to Henry while she urinated. He responded in kind, clearly having fun, so Gwen sent a few more messages.

But the disposable test was still there, and finally Gwen had to set her phone down so she could use it. She did what she needed to, wondering all the while how it could be that she was late on her period, a month late, when she'd never been late on her period in her life.

Gwen brought the test up to look at it, sure she knew what the result would be. There'd be no problem and she'd go on fucking Henry consequence-free until she got bored or something. She'd lost her virginity in the 8th grade, for God's sakes, and never yet had she caught anything, let _alone_ gotten-

_Oh, shit._

**ΩΩΩΩΩ**

Sitting in one of Fleetwood Hall's many luxurious bedrooms, blood spattered on his face and a pleasantly dull ache in his balls, Henry picked up his phone again, glancing over at Mark, who was busy with the dead girl's pretty friend. Her jugular hadn't been cut yet, but it would be. Mark was huffing and puffing, really having a great time, so Henry waited until his brother finished, stuck a knife in the second girl's neck, and stood up with a grin on his face to share the good news.

"I got something to tell you, Mark," Henry announced in a sing-song voice, holding up his phone.

"Why don't you tell me?" Mark replied in the same tone, looking mildly irritated.

"My dick's bigger."

Mark glanced down at himself, then at Henry. "No, it isn't! We're the same size, and that's fucking huge!"

"So defensive, Mark."

"Fuck you!"

"Mark, I said I had news."

"Yeah, and then-" Mark sighed in exasperation. "Well, what? What is it?"

"Gwen just told me she's got a problem, Mark."

Mark instantly grinned. "So she's pregnant?"

"Yep."

The auburn-haired young man came over and squeezed Henry's well-muscled right shoulder. "Great work. Congratulations, Daddy."

"Thanks, Mark."

"So what're you gonna tell her?"

"The usual shit. I'll be there soon, it's gonna be okay, don't worry. She's pretty upset but I'm gonna calm her down."

Mark laughed. "Oh, I can't wait. You're gonna have to do what I had to with Julie! You're gonna have to woo her day and night, man, all the ultra-romantic shit you always gave me hell about? Enjoy, man, because now it's your turn. Mark my fuckin' words."

"You're Mark, Mark."

"Don't you even try distracting me," Mark said. "I'm telling you, your turn's here."

"Like hell it is."

Mark snickered. "Oh, so you're telling me you're _not _gonna talk this bitch into keeping the kid, carrying him nice and safe, modeling for the next nine months with you right there with her… ready to help her get through this, whatever it takes?"

Henry, who had been preparing to say some of those very things to Gwen once she realized she'd gotten pregnant a month ago, felt his pale face flush with irritation. Mark saw it and laughed delightedly, prompting Henry to fling a pillow at him. Mark dodged it, still laughing.

"Did I tell you what I saw at the grocery store today?" Henry asked, trying to change the subject so he didn't have to attack his brother.

"Nah."

"I saw a little boy, like a toddler. Blond hair, blue eyes. He looked like a picture of me from way back. This chick had him riding in her shopping cart."

"Hey, you think he was one of yours?"

"I've made a shitload of donations since we started, Mark, and all the stuff they listed about me as a donor is perfect." Henry smiled. "I knew it the second I saw him. He's one of mine."

"Pretty sure I saw this girl with my auburn hair the other day," Mark said speculatively. "She'll do some great work breeding eventually if she's mine."

"Too bad we can't just make them all ourselves," Henry sighed.

"Hey, you had plenty of fun making your second heir," Mark pointed out. "Just enjoy her, all right? She's gonna be all yours for the next year, pretty much."

"I will. Always do."

"I wish I could be there every time you two talk," Mark gloated, that grin coming back. "You're gonna have to bullshit her just like I did Julie, Mr. Romantic's here, Mr. Henry Evans-"

Henry threw another pillow, and thankfully Mark ended up dodging to the left and caught this one on the face.

* * *

**A/N: 8-16-2020.**

**EDIT: 8-17-2020. AM83220 helpfully pointed out some oversights in the original chapter and I went back, did some more proofreading, and uploaded the new chapter.**

**This is not *technically* one of my active stories, but I'm having fun with it and AM83220 have been doing our best to keep some ideas going. AM83220 is the one who gave me the idea of Gwen and the details of her character as a fitness model that Henry meets during a visit to Premiere. Credit for inspiring this OC and the overall featured events of Chapter 5 goes to him.**

**Henry and Mark are strictly speaking on active duty with the Marines, who aren't known for having a lot of bases up near Canada. I haven't quite decided how to explain their ability to spend that kind of free time in Maine and New York yet. It could be that they did manage to get some kind of assignment closer to home, like an ROTC unit or recruiting station, although that would have to be through their considerable connections and ability to charm and manipulate rather than through experience. Normally the military would never give ROTC or recruiting postings to new Marine officers, as they have no real experience in the service to draw from in either role.**

**As I wrote to AM83220, I think Gwen would have been the woman of Henry's dreams had he grown up as a young man with a conscience instead of being born devoid of one. Had Henry gotten a real chance at life, had he been able to be a decent and earnest person like Mark was, he would have proposed to Gwen within a year of meeting her. She'd be the perfect match for his egomania and love for fitness, if only he could actually love anyone besides Mark. As it is, since he can't, Henry will just use her the way he has used all the young women in his life.**

**Henry and Mark would obviously have not need the additional money they'd earn staying with Premiere after their senior year in high school, but to them it's an ego trip, a way to showboat and to easily meet women at the same time. They enjoy the superficial nature of modeling, its inevitable emphasis on outer beauty, and the growing attention it has brought to them as more brands and magazines notice them and request that Premiere get them in for a photo shoot.**

**The next chapter is going to be devoted to Mark's reluctant marriage to Julie, featuring the bachelor party Henry will throw on Mark's behalf as well as the wedding itself. Chapter 6 will also be showing some of Henry's management of Gwen's pregnancy, and his laying on the ultra-romantic wooing just as Mark predicted he would.**

**All feedback is welcome.**


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